The masks we wear
by KIMMIKY
Summary: Something is stirring in Camelot, and destiny is in peril. What happens when the greatest forces decide to interfere? Emrys is injured and Morgana is getting ready to strike. But all may not be as it seems and sometimes the worst things can actually be better than we can ever imagine. Set a few months after the end of season 4.
1. Prologue

The Masks We Wear.

**Prologue**

There was something stirring.

Prophesied events were being shadowed and the sight was becoming all but inaccessible as the images of the future became muddied.

The bright shining road Emrys would forge as the right hand of destiny was dimming, splitting, becoming a darker tangled web of many paths, and the dragon was very anxious.

Something had happened, an unforeseen event that could shatter the future of the land, for good or ill, and Khilgarrah had no idea now how to undo the knots forming in the threads of fate. Neither did he have a clue if all the strands would emerge unscathed nor if the pattern woven at the end would be the one needed. If it would become the beginnings of Albion, or the destruction of all hope was increasingly unclear.

Khilgarrah's gift and clarity of foresight even amongst the Dragons had been without equal and to lose such ability now, when most needed, was extremely worrisome. Only a Deity had the power to cloud so much of the future. But who? Which of the gods and goddesses that looked over Albion would have so troubled themselves to interfere. Such a move was unprecedented.

There was a darkness coming and he had to talk to his lord.

His wings were stretched as far as he could make them as he made haste back to the Camelot border. He could not go closer to the city without his dragonlord's express permission but he would be as close as he could, for as long as it took, for the summons to come. And it would come; he had no doubt of that. If only he could now be sure of just who would do the summoning.

…..

Morgana Pendragon, last high priestess of the triple goddess, and most feared and hated felon in the 5 kingdoms was staring in bemusement at a very small, grubby hand holding what appeared to be the tattiest looking book in existence. The hand belonged to one of the oddest people she had ever beheld. The woman, if that is indeed what she was, was tiny only standing as far as Morgana's waist, birdlike in the delicacy of her bone structure. She was dressed in ragged flutters of cloth that only appeared to be held together with a few stitches here and there, but which fell from the top of her head, in a sort of cowl like ensemble, down the rest of her frail looking wrinkled form, to drag back along the floor for a good foot, and they were filthy. Whatever colour the rags were originally was unrecognisable beneath the dirt. In fact the entirety of the woman seemed to be encased in muck; there was even a trail of soil leading from the doorway to where the woman stood with her hand out, book presented without ceremony. Morgana was intrigued despite herself.

There were not many instances where an intrusion to the throne room of Morgana's latest hideaway, would not have ended in bloodshed. But this creature had managed to invade her sanctuary with nary a hue or cry from her guards, and her wards had been silent. This woman, whoever the hell she was, had magic, and powerful magic

"I see you Pendragon" The voice was a deep, hoarse rasp, it filled the echoing confines of the room completely and Morgana couldn't help but jump at the power hidden within the deceptively feeble looking person. With that voice Morgana was no longer so certain of the creature's gender and to be perfectly honest felt it to be a somewhat creepy statement. Not even the cailleach had inspired the shivers that were now running down her spine.

"Who are you? What do you want?" The statement didn't come out as forcefully as Morgana would have preferred, in fact it was positively weak sounding and Morgana was becoming increasingly annoyed. Straightening abruptly in the hard wooden throne, she recalled that she was the last of her kind and would NOT be intimidated by a pathetic lump of refuse in her own hall. "Answer carefully old woman I am in no mood for games. Why are you here?" The woman's arm never wavered she just held out the slim volume in silence. Completely unnerved by this point, but valiantly showing no sign on her pale face she reached out and took the damned book with nerveless fingers. The moment she took possession, the wind began to howl and the woman broke into a dust storm and disappeared through the window, but not without another gravelly, parting shot, "Use it wisely Pendragon. Your doom will not easily stand against it."

"Emrys!" Morgana's whispered identification of the cailleach's admission had shot out before she had had time to even process what the book now meant.

If the mystery woman was to be believed she now held a way for Emrys to be defeated or at the very least, damaged in some way. Now suddenly eager, and treating the volume like the greatest treasure, she retreated to her bedchamber. If this was the key to defeating her enemies and regaining Camelot's throne, she wanted no interruptions to her study of it. Sailing from the throne room she instructed her bloodguard that she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, lit every candle she had with a wave of her hand and a muttered incantation, and sitting in her favourite chair, opened the first page.


	2. Chapter 1 Little black book

**A/N Sorry I realised when I posted my prologue I never did Do the whole I don't own Merlin gig, so here it is I don't. I wish I did, I would never have been as heartless with his happiness if I had! **

**This is my first Fanfiction so please let me know what you think, even if you believe its complete drivel. My updates may be sporadic. I have the plot for the first ten chapters I just have to make them legible. I will post as soon as I finish each one and made sure they are presentable. If you spot any mistakes or plot holes please let me know, i appreciate feedback.**

**Thankyou and enjoy Kimmiky out!**

**...**

Chapter 1 Little black book

The light had long since fled when Morgana at last shut the book upon its last page and sat back with a self satisfied smirk. She regarded the ratty journal with ill concealed glee. The Druid account contained within was just what she had been searching for.

Morgana had always assumed that she would have to face Emrys head on. Find him and endure a fight to the death until she had destroyed him. Truth be told, when she had first heard of her destiny and doom she had been petrified. That fear had slowly dissipated into a determination to remove the threat he represented and pave the way to Camelot's throne through eliminating its greatest protector. Ever since the incident with the Fomorrah, Alator's betrayal, and most especially when her magic had failed her in the throne room at Camelot's takeover, Morgana had reasoned that Emrys must be watching over the city and stepping in to foil her plans at the last moment. It seemed he had been overseeing its protection for years now. Since all her plans to undermine its leaders and its defences came to naught even when Agravaine had been firmly ensconced as Arthur's advisor and his less than exemplary efforts at sabotage. He was dead now probably at Emrys hand, though she never had found out exactly how that had occurred.

Morgana had been apprehensive that such a course would allow her to prevail. She had barely survived the last face to face duel with the old man. Her terror and surprise when he had turned up in her hut intending to destroy her pet had allowed him to gain the upper hand. And though now she believed that given time to prepare she could indeed be victorious. She would prefer not to have such direct conflict if there was another way. This book seemed to be the means to that rather desirable end. She would not have to stir from her surroundings and best of all he would never see the attack coming until it was far too late.

Preparations for the rites contained within this unassuming volume would take time, but that was something she had in abundance at the moment. After all, everyone in Camelot believed she was either dead or at least severely injured from when the citadel was retaken. If that Dragon hadn't found her it would have taken months. It took more than a single slash from a mortal blade to kill a high priestess but the wound would have been excruciatingly painful. Meaning it would have severely hampered her mobility and her magic until it had fully healed.

She needed to revisit her old hut. It was the only place she would find Emrys' blood if there were any remaining. If not she would have to set a trap for the old man. Not to kill him yet just injure him enough to collect his blood. She hated to admit it but she wasn't back to full strength for an invasion yet and he was a little too formidable at present. No she wanted him to suffer first. To realise he was helpless to prevent what was coming and know despair. And it would confuse him no end, to be injured in a trap of Morgana's making then just have her let him go. He was a senile old fool and it would give her great pleasure to keep him guessing till the very last second.

...

Amaethon God of agriculture and magic and his wife Frige Goddess of earthen fertility did not see time in the same way that mortals viewed it. They may look upon their domains on occasion but those instances would be few and far between. Centuries may pass in the blink of an eye before they may stir themselves to check the progress of their charges and so long as all was well they did not interfere in the realm of mortal affairs. The lives of Humans were too fleeting to take but the slightest notice unless said mortal was considered interesting, dangerous to their causes, or both.

Uther had been such a person. The damage he caused with the systematic eradication of an entire race could have been irreparable if not for their swift intervention. Magic is part of the natural order. To harm magic is to harm the balance of the earth, which would in turn injure magic. A self sustaining loop of destruction that had to be broken, else it could not be repaired. But how to do it. Magic users were the caretakers of the balance, vessels that shaped the wild, untamed forces and made them work with the land rather than against it. To remove so many physical representations of magical energy over so short a period of time was to incite chaos.

When a magical being naturally reached the end of its existence, the magic they contained drained back into the earth and a new life created to receive it. Thus the delicate harmony of order and chaos was restored and the cycles of life kept in check. Releasing so much power at once would have been too much like releasing the greatest hurricane from a very small bottle, infinitely destructive and world destroying. So much magic could not go unfettered for long. And so the god and goddess most in tune with the forces affected created a receptacle. A piece of both their souls, an immortal anchor tied to the life force of the earth and a key to all the magic of the purge. In effect a spiritual son of the gods. This spirit needed a human host specifically one which already had a powerful connection to magic even if currently dormant. Thus it came to be that Merlin, son of Hunith and the Dragonlord Balinor became the chosen one. The beloved son of the earth, air, fire and of course magic. A child of light and hope. The boy, who would become the prophesied Emrys, re-forging the bonds between the spiritual and mundane worlds. And so to make sure nothing like this would ever happen again, Arthur became the once and future king in reparation for his fathers sins, and to beget a partnership of champions, to help, love and support each other, creating in the process a land united in peace and harmony.

For the first years of Emrys' existence the gods were pleased. Merlin was cherished by the woman Hunith and grew in both power and character. Protected from afar by his spiritual parents, they drew curious eyes away from this small corner of the world. For the first time in aeons, Amaethon and Frige had a reason to keep a close watch, allowing themselves to revel in this small spark of their creation. But even a demigod as young as Emrys cannot be kept from its purpose for long and he soon left the safety of the home they had chosen for him and took up the demands of his role as guardian and a great challenge it would prove to be.

He was a god, true, but a god in human form and subject to all its frailties and insecurities. He would grow into his knowledge and power but seventeen years was but a mere blip in the span of his existence and not enough time to become comfortable within his own skin. Like a gangly colt all long limbs and awkward grace, never quite sure what all his appendages were doing at once, and too much raw power to control easily. No matter, he did well. Meeting every obstacle with wisdom and compassion far beyond his mortal years, nurturing those he cared for and destroying all who would oppose the balance. For seven years they waited and watched feeling as much pride as a god may expect to feel on the accomplishments of their child, seeing the hated Uther finally defeated. Arthur became the caretaker and defender they had hoped for. The land slowly began to heal as Arthur stopped actively persecuting and outright killing those on whom the balance depended, and the kingdom unknowingly became the centre of the Earth's guardianship.

There was however no change to their son's status, magic was still chained and the recovery of Albion taking too long. Their son had suffered, was still suffering and would continue to suffer if the prophecies were to remain on the same path. They had to step in. They could not bare the pain such a course would bring to their treasured child. They would have to force the hand of fate.


	3. Chapter 2 Of blood and lovable rogues

**A/N Just so you know I was going to have a much more, fast paced story when it was first plotted but Its turning into more of a gently meandering epic. The banter between Merlin and Arthur in the show was always so brilliantly written I wanted but never got the same feel from Merlin and Gwaine. I just thought the series could do with a bit more from them, since they are supposed to be best friends, hence this. **

**Slight spoiler for a scene from Season 4 episode 6, though it is slightly au to fit with my story.**

**Please tell me what you think. **

…**.**

Chapter 2 Of blood and lovable rogues.

There was a musty, disused atmosphere to the stone hut. Dust, debris and animal waste littered the floor. The shelves were empty of magical paraphernalia and there were several small holes punching through the roof, allowing the weak spring sunlight to filter down into the interior. Not that it did much to dispel the gloom but it kept trying. Altogether the hut felt and looked entirely abandoned. If anyone had claimed its use since Morgana relocated it didn't show.

This would make Morgana's job easier. Walking calmly to the centre of the space and closing her eyes she threw out tendrils of her magic trying to recall the events of near 8 months ago, reconstructing them in her mind and playing them out through her magic so it created a glowing, diaphanous picture overlaid on the huts present structure. It helped that the two combatants were both magical in origin, as their signature would still linger within the very fabric of the place. It only needed her magic to coax it to the surface.

"_**Clypian on middan gesihp on**____**läst gëardagas bëacen" **_The spell rolled from her tongue in a musical stream twisting her magic into every corner of the building and the whole area lit with a soft gold shimmer coalescing into the image of an old weather-beaten sorcerer and of course Morgana herself. There was no sound but it was not needed in this instance as she was only trying to see if Emrys had been injured in any way whilst they had fought. Morgana honestly had very little recollection of the fight's details. It seemed a little too easy to gain his blood through this means but if it could be achieved with so little effort she had to try.

There was the shelving falling and the old man clutching the jar holding the serpent. No injuries so far and he was now moving out of the hut into the clearing. There he fell hitting his head on the rock. She hurried to check, already realising with the rain and snow of the winter months that there was very little chance of finding any. No none. But wait. What was this? Viewing the characters still retracing their steps in all their silent, golden glory, she noticed a detail she had all but forgotten. She remembered that dagger it was one of a pair she was rather fond of. She hadn't had chance to use it before he'd thrown her but then she had hurled it at him with magic as he stood over her. Had it cut him? She hurried back to the hut with a vague notion that Agravaine had brought it back in after he found her in the forest and tossed it in the corner. Now if only she could be certain he had not cleaned it.

Her memory had not failed her. There sitting on the small table next to the bed was the dagger. Covered in dust and cobwebs from almost eight months of laying undisturbed. Almost reverently she picked it up and inspected every inch of the blade. There just near the tip was the rust red stain she had been looking for. It was tiny but it was there. Morgana's eyes lit up. She could hardly contain her excitement. The blade must have grazed Emrys' cheek whilst they battled.

Morgana carefully wrapped the blade in a clean cloth and pausing in the doorway, looked at the part of her life she was glad to see the back of. This had been survival, no more. It had been only a small stumbling block on the road to her future. She was a lady and a queen and she would have her throne. Firmly shutting the battered door upon her past she turned her face to the midday sun and walked confidently towards her destiny.

…..

The smell of the stables was almost overpowering. Spring had come early this year and the temperature was on the rise. The warmth of the sun was welcome everywhere except here where the combination of heat and animal waste made for a very uncomfortable existence for a certain young warlock.

Muttering insults under his breath about idiotic supposed friends and prattish kings with their penchant for cruel punishments, he dutifully shovelled straw and other unnamed substances, better not examined too closely. In any other circumstances he may have found the royal stables restful. The building wasn't as large as the ones housing the horses for the guards, or even the one down by the lower town gate that provided hired livery for visiting merchants. There were only eight occupied stalls and he knew the foibles of every animal held here. It was in fact one of the places he liked to come and think. The mounts of his closest companions had become friends of their own of sorts. Their calming presence providing a solace and peace much needed when the weight of his duties became too much, and he just needed the presence of other living beings without them asking anything in return.

Not however at this particular moment. The sound of the outer door squeaking open on stiff hinges, penetrated the quiet and Merlin whipped his head round in time to see Gwaine sheepishly shuffling into the dim confines, rustling loose straw as he came.

"This is all your fault!" Gesturing wildly with his pitchfork, annoyed expression firmly ensconced on his face, he took a moment to view the almost apologetic façade.

"I didn't think…." Merlin cut him off.

"No you didn't. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I had to clean the stables? And I wasn't even the cause of it!"

"Hey. How was I to know Gwen was only half decent? And you were clearly loitering, I was only giving you a gentle nudge to get you going!"

"Gwaine. I was not loitering. I had paused outside the door after **knocking** because there is now a **married **couple in the royal chambers. There was absolutely no need for you to push me into the room and send me sprawling then run off down the corridor. What are you 6? Arthur was livid!"

"You didn't tell him it was me did you?"

"Like he'd believe me if I did?" Merlin scoffed, "You weren't anywhere in sight and my unfortunate relationship with gravity is well known! He put it down to me being my usual self and told me the stables had been without my company for far too long. I suppose it could have been worse, the stocks haven't seen me in a while either."

"Ah my friend what would I do without you?" Gwaine's grin was infectious and there was a small thread of contrition lacing his words. Merlin sighed. He could never stay angry for long. "Give me a hand to finish would you, since it's mostly your fault and we'll call it even."

"I'd already decided to offer my help. Truly I didn't know the door was loose or how hard I'd pushed." It was true Gwaine was not wearing his chainmail, an unusual occurrence but not so much as to incite comment. Now he noticed though he was also wearing his old battered clothing. He really had come to apologise. He stripped off his gloves and tucked them in his belt and set to with a will. Merlin's expression turned from a rueful grimace into a genuine, friendly, and well known, warm smile. "Wonders will never cease. The Great Gwaine, learning to apologise like a man!"

"Great?" Gwaine paused in the act of laying fresh straw in the already cleaned stalls. His head cocked to one side and an arrested expression on his mobile features before they both burst out laughing and ended the cleaning in a much happier mood.

"Arthur wanted to see you as soon as your done, by the way."

"Did he still look angry?"

"No. More…distracted. He said something about the lower town repairs and you'd know what he was on about!" Merlin rolled his eyes. Honestly Arthur wouldn't last five minutes without him. Spreading the last of the fresh straw, he surveyed his work. It was as good as it was going to get.

"Are you coming back up?"

"Nah I'm going to the tavern" Merlin grinned and rolled his eye's again.

"They have a new recipe of ale I need to try."

"Oh I see you 'need' to."

"I am their best customer. Its only fair I make sure the newest offering is palatable!" With another throaty laugh and a jaunty wave, he replaced his gloves and set off for the rising sun leaving Merlin to replace the equipment and run back up to the citadel.

…**..**

**A/N Spell translation**

**Clypian on middan gesihp on****läst gëardagas bëacen – call out in the midst of visions in pursuit of past portents.**

**The show almost made the longer spells sound like prayers, so I've tried to be a bit more poetic with any made up spells to reflect this. Of course I have no idea if my old English is grammatically correct so if it isn't, my apologies.**


	4. Chapter 3 Reflections on an idiot

Chapter 3 Reflections on an idiot.

Arthur had always prided himself on being able to asses the talents and skills of most of his closest advisors and knights within a very short period of meeting them for the first time. He had come to realise that such a talent was sometimes invaluable for the prosperity of his kingdom. And yet for all his apparent ability to assign the perfect tasks to the most able person, he still had issues of trust. The uncanny senses he had when assessing a person's suitability for certain roles inexplicably deserted him when it came to matters of loyalty, especially where family members were concerned.

He had loved Morgana as a sibling long before he had known she actually was his sister. Her betrayal had cut like a knife most unaccountably because he couldn't for the life of him think why she would turn on him. His father he could understand. He had been a hard man to please. Demanding, prideful and so sure his way was the only correct way. And yet for all his faults, he had loved his children with a fierce passion, perhaps only rivalled by that he had for his kingdom. He could not imagine such a man killing or even imprisoning his beloved daughter even if she did posses magic, from what he had seen she had no choice in having it. They could have found a way to help her. He had even less idea why she would think he, Arthur, would do so. He had never given any indication that he could be so unforgiving his stance on magic had been somewhat more liberal than his fathers had ever been. His temper could be abysmal true, but it was short lived, flaring brightly but briefly and then settling to his normal, even keel once he'd had time to think.

Agravaine had been a beloved uncle, not appearing often in the court but usually watching from afar. Turning up unexpectedly for seasonal celebrations, staying a few weeks, then disappearing back to his far northern estates once again. He had realised after his betrayal that he had never once questioned why his uncle had never stayed long. He had believed it a combination of the painful reminder of his young sisters tragically short marriage, and the rather inconvenient location of his property. He hadn't fully realised the memories he held of those previous visits had been full of shifty eyed tension on his father's part and outright hostility on his uncle's.

He had trusted them both as family, because the idea of family, to him, was of a unit. A circle of people who would always have your back. Who you could turn to when you were vulnerable, and know they would build up your shattered confidence, lighten your burdens and love you unconditionally, Safe in the knowledge you would do the same. Why then did those closest to him in blood feel he was so undeserving?

This question had plagued him from the moment he realised Agravaine's part in Camelot's downfall, through the long months of rebuilding until now. It had been worse when the knowledge of his betrayal had been so fresh. Those few days on the run from the combined forces of Helios' and his uncles troops had been painful and left him feeling raw and on edge. Tristan's words and attitude towards his actions and policies had just reinforced his feelings of inadequacy, right up until that sword.

Even now, his belief in his divine right to rule was shaken, but from the moment his hand touched that blade and for the first days following their coup he had felt…completely whole. Of course the adrenaline had faded and the realities of rebuilding a severely depleted kingdom had pierced the bubble. Now although he still felt better about his kingship and even had days where his reservations fell away completely, he couldn't help feeling like he had missed something. Something vitally important he had just…missed somehow in all the confusion.

Which is why he was sat here, late morning sunlight streaming through his partly open window, watching the light play along the ferule of this magnificent sword. Turning it this way and that to catch the sunbeams, wondering how he, of all people, could deserve to wield it. Waiting for a manservant who he no longer felt fit into any of his previously well worn categorisations.

He was his friend, not that he would ever admit it (kings didn't do such things), but he may even be his best friend. More than that, he showed more of the traits he associated with family than any of his real family ever had. He had brought together every one of his close knit group. Gwen would not be his wife if Merlin had not alerted him to her presence and encouraged him to see beyond the mundane. Leon had already been part of his inner circle but his true potential had been realised when his commoner knights had arrived and he became their natural leader, after Arthur himself.

He was his manservant, but not like any servant he had ever met. He was cheeky and insubordinate. Hardworking, no matter that he called him incompetent and lazy. He was intelligent, and unusually literate and well read. His bouts of astounding wisdom were a testament to this. Yet he didn't do well at politics. Having him calling a spade a spade without all the fancy misleading jargon and outright flattery was what he needed in the privacy of his chambers but was absolutely terrible in the old council (it would give more than half an apoplexy). He could be a great advisor if he were more diplomatic and consistent. It was banter between them that was familiar, Arthur would tell him he was an idiot and the worst manservant he had ever had and Merlin would call him a prat.

Merlin tagged along on patrols, sometimes throwing himself into the path of danger. He wasn't a Knight by any means, his sheer clumsiness with a sword attested to that, but he was a fairly decent shot with a crossbow. He was no longer suited as just a servant, and Arthur was sure in his mind he had never considered him as such. The question now was what was he going to do with him? There was no perfect fit within any of the proscribed roles, he had never asked for anything either and yet the nagging feeling persisted that he had missed out, that there was something he should have done but had bypassed the opportunity.

He sighed heavily at the complete and utter puzzle that was Merlin. Twisting the blade in his palms one last time so the light streaked across the wall opposite, he hefted it in his hand and brought it home into it sheath with a click. He would deal with the conundrums of his existence later. Right now he had the useless manifestation of his manservant and a recalcitrant council to deal with.


	5. Chapter 4 This won't hurt a bit!

**A/N Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews. I'm so glad everyone is enjoying this. Please keep sending your thoughts. It helps me develop my writing tremendously. **

…**..**

Chapter 4 This won't hurt a bit!

Smoke from a hundred candles filtered through the small space, illuminating the polished brass bowl stood in the centre of the stone altar. It shone softly in the candlelight, reflections of the flames bouncing off the water half filling the vessel and interrupted every now and then by the herbs floating across its surface.

Druidic runes painted in red adorned the outer edges of the shallow dish and carried on the altars scrubbed surface in concentric circles three deep around it. Apart from the altar and the candles there was nothing else in the room. An internal stone chamber with no window, little more than a cupboard really, but it had been meticulously scrubbed. It was ready and just waiting now for the perpetrators to arrive before its purpose could be fulfilled.

It didn't have to wait long. Morgana gracefully glided into the room followed by three burly men in dark leather armour and with the red rowan tree displayed proudly on their chests. There were only six bloodguard left after the last debacle. Loyal, skilled men of families devoted to the high priestesses dating back generations. They were a dying breed, most especially because each of the families dedicated to the cause had magic of varying strength in addition to their excellent swordsmanship. One of the men took up position by the door, only there to ensure privacy and make arrangements to transport them all to their beds once the ceremony was completed. Morgana knew she would be completely drained and practically useless for a good few hours after the spell even with the other two men's strength to draw upon. The druid account stated that usually four practitioners were needed to share magical strength with one as a focal point. She only had three. She was powerful which would somehow make up the extra force but handling that amount of raw energy would dent her resources and put a strain on her body. It would take a while to recover.

She knelt in front of the altar. It was not necessary for the spell but it would be less distance to fall once her strength gave out. Her men knelt with her either side and each placed a hand on her shoulders. She laid the cloth wrapped dagger on the floor and opened it ready. Bringing her magic forth she held her hands over the bowl and as her eyes began to glow a steady gold she began to chant.

The incantation was long and complicated and she had spent days meditating and memorising each inflection until perfect. She had one chance at this and she did not intend to waste it. The hardest part was to keep the magic at a steady burn dancing just under her skin without releasing until everything else was in place. The intent and focus being just as important as the words themselves meant a great deal of intense concentration. There were few with such skill left.

**_"Mid leoõucræft ëac blödgemended cnif timbrian bricg bæt fæstnian aswipan änweald fruma ëac onginnan wræcfæc ütane hige Ic clipe creaft asprytan hiersume me timbrian bricg bæt fæstnian aswipan änweald fruma ëac onginnan wræcfæc ütane hige"_**

As the last words fell from her lips she gently picked up the bloodied knife, held it over the herb scattered water and released just as she dropped it into the bowl. The timing needed to be perfect, but she was confident. That confidence paid off when she felt the thrum of power build and then spill from the vessel like an overfull dam releasing floodwaters. The magic flew from the room, dousing the candles as it went, speeding towards its intended target leaving her weak and gasping on the floor of the suddenly darkened room.

According to the unnamed druid who created the spell it would create a bridge allowing the intent of the spell to emulate the signature of the person's own magic. A virus that would infect their magical core and would remove conscious control of a person's magic, forcing it inwards, fuelling nightmarish dreams as the magic fought itself, before it burned itself away. It was a beautifully sneaky piece of magic, she would have loved to have met such a devious mind. The time it took to fully take effect after the initial surge was directly connected to the power possessed by the victim, the greater the power, the longer it took. Morgana smiled evilly and then began to laugh at the thought of the torment she would cause. Emrys was exceptionally powerful, it would take days for his magic to rebel.

…..

Merlin was hurrying through the courtyard, herb bag in hand when the first wave hit. Doubling him over and making him retch. His senses were on overload. His knees gave way and he barely felt the hands round his arms supporting him as solicitous voices asked him what was wrong.

His blood felt like it was on fire and a pressure was building slowly in his mind. Wave after wave of nausea making his head spin and the world seem indistinct. Time had no meaning for however long it lasted, but eventually the sea of pain and confusion receded leaving him pale and shaken with a trembling mass of weakened limbs and an excruciating headache.

The sounds of the courtyard started to filter back into his consciousness and he lifted his eyes to see not one but a whole crowd of people looking on with concern.

"Sorry!" he stated weakly, hoping they would all go away and leave him alone.

"No need mate. Are you alright? What happened? Come on up let's get you to Gaius, yeah?" Not waiting for any of his questions to really be answered Gwaine just levered his arm under Merlin's shoulder and hauled him to his feet.

"Don't feel well." He was swaying slightly. The world shifting, fizzing and fuzzy at the edges with a grey haze creeping in. A short, sharp laugh accompanied Gwaine's arm snaking more securely around his friend's chest as they made their way towards Gaius's tower

"Yeah. I got that from the whole collapsing in the courtyard bit. Care to tell me what's wrong?"

"Don't know just suddenly felt sick. Maybe I had a bad reaction to some of the herbs I picked." Trying to shrug whilst hobbling across a cobbled yard, relying on another person for balance, was not the most intelligent idea he decided as he almost sent them crashing to the ground. The sun seemed too bright, sounds too loud. Someone had picked up his herb bag, and it kept banging his leg as he walked.

"Has that happened before?"

"Not really but it can. Gaius keeps telling me to be wary with some of them, maybe I was a bit careless." They had reached the stairs and though he didn't feel as bad, was in fact feeling better with each step, he still wasn't looking forward to climbing them. Pausing at the bottom with a slight groan Gwaine shifted to a more secure grip and practically dragged him up the stairs. The door at the top was kicked open and a sweating, dishevelled Merlin deposited on the seat beside the door.

Gaius had been at his workbench in the corner, reading one of his many medical journals, when the door crashed open. Lifting his head in surprise he paled at the sight of his ward dangling from the knight's shoulders. "Merlin! What happened?"

"He says he doesn't know?"

"I am here and I can speak Gwaine. I was just walking back here with the herbs you asked for and just felt sick and dizzy. It came on very quickly but seems to be going now." There was so much more to it than that and he tried to convey this with his eyes. He couldn't exactly blurt out he'd felt a wave of magic so strong and twisted he'd almost passed out, with a knight of Camelot stood looking on with concern. Not that he thought Gwaine would turn him in but still. Gaius was well used to his forms of silent communication and shooed the reluctant knight out of his chambers with a reminder of his duties and promise to let him know how he was doing later.

"Alright so what really happened?"

"It's as I said, but Gaius someone did magic, powerful magic and they weren't in Camelot. I've never felt anything like it. It was like I'd been dipped in hot wax, hollowed out and then pieces chipped away. You remember the Dorocha?"

"How could I forget?"

"That was so cold. This felt somehow…similar, but hot, so very hot. It burned. I can't explain it!" Frustration ate at him and he slumped on the bench running shaking fingers through dark hair. He didn't notice his mentor leaving his side till he came back, waving a small bottle in his line of sight.

"For your headache." At Merlin's enquiring glance he merely sighed. "You always run your fingers through your hair when you have one. Go on take it. I'll tell Arthur I need you for the rest of the afternoon. Rest a little then we'll try and figure out what's going on."

"Thanks." The bottles contents were swiftly downed with a distinct grimace. He climbed his small staircase and lay down on his hard bed, fully clothed, one leg drawn up and an arm slung across his eyes waiting for the pounding to subside.

….…..

"It is done." Frige turned away from the window of the world and surveyed her husband with troubled eyes. "Are you certain of this course? So many factors to consider, we may have missed something. It has been so long since we had contact with the mortal world directly." Amaethon took his wife in his arms and comforted her as best he could, short black hair mingling with auburn curls as his wife leaned into the warmth.

"It is the only way beloved. You know this. You have seen her heart and his. An effective blade must be forged correctly lest it become brittle."

"I never thought I could feel so much for him."

"Nor I. We must do what we can. He is so strong already and belief is so much a part of **our** strength my love. We must send him some of ours. Believe in him."

"I will. I do. But this will cause harm and he is already in such pain. Mortals can be so destructive." Her pout made her husband laugh a little and raise a perfect eyebrow. "So can we my love! So can we!"


	6. Chapter 5 old crows

**A/N I keep forgetting to do these. I get so excited to finish a chapter I just post without thinking. **

**The spell translation from the last chapter is this- Mid leoõucræft ëac blödgemended cnif timbrian bricg bæt fæstnian aswipan änweald fruma ëac onginnan wræcfæc ütane hige Ic clipe creaft asprytan hiersume me timbrian bricg bæt fæstnian aswipan änweald fruma ëac onginnan wræcfæc ütane hige – By means of skill of hand and bloodstained knife, to build bridges that bind deprive of power and begin the time of exile from outside the mind, I call strength, bring forth, come to me to build bridges that bind deprive of power and begin the time of exile from outside the mind. **

**I never want to try and make a spell that complicated again tell me off if I try please!**

**And I still don't own Merlin. The BBC are a little bit mean and disinclined to share!**

…**...**

Chapter 5 Old crows.

Manservant's were pesky creatures!

One moment they were tripping over their own feet, landing half in the doorway of the royal apartments startling the mostly but not quite fully dressed queen. The half smile trying desperately to appear on Arthur's face did in no way mean he found that incident amusing. And Guinevere was Not giggling helplessly into her pillow when he was sent unceremoniously to the stables. She was clearly hysterical and or sobbing… maybe.

The next they would be handing you documents you know for a fact they hid on purpose, yes he guessed that placing a heavy tome of tax laws on top of said documents didn't help but that was beside the point. Merlin should never have left them in a spot so perfect a resting place for books on Camelot taxation. That evening's dinner had been served in cold silence much to Gwen's amusement.

Then If Gwaine was to be believed he had all but collapsed in the courtyard yesterday, with absolutely no sign of anything wrong except a dodgy story about herb allergies. Leaving him to the tender mercies of the cleanliness obsessed George for the whole of that evening whilst he apparently recovered and researched which damned plant had turned round and bit him so he could avoid it in future. Leave it to Merlin to get attacked by a sodding plant!

And now, NOW just as he had gotten said manservant back, he was assaulted by that thrice cursed logic of his. In council, with half his fathers old peers looking on baying for blood. Not that Lord Aldcott didn't have it coming. To restrict aid to only those families who could contribute fully to the rebuilding effort was somewhat cruel. There were several households who now only boasted sets of siblings, some no older than 14 as the head of the family. And some where no family member had escaped injury. Everyone did what they could. He knew of one such home, mother with a broken ankle, father addled severely with a head injury that left his speech slurring and permanent double vision. Young lad no older than 7 and the daughter just barely 2. The woman took in the washing of the families still without adult support, the man not able to do a lot at all except sweep streets free of debris with his son's support and guidance.

Merlin's muffled snort in the midst of Lord Aldcott's tirade about wasted resources, lazy undeserving citizens and supposedly blatant thievery by using false sob stories, had turned the man an interesting shade of puce. Why did he Arthur, decide it would be a good idea to let him have his say? And why in the gods name did he have to call him a wizened old prune at the end of a well thought out and reasoned argument for distribution to the masses. He had swayed pretty much the entire council to his side he even had Aldcott nodding along. Until that comment, softly spoken probably not meant to be heard, probably wasn't heard by those who's hearing was a little dodgy to begin with. But yea gads couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

He'd had to assign him to the lower town rebuilding detail for the next two days as punishment, in the hope the physical labour would exhaust him enough he wouldn't have the strength left to open his mouth again in public. Doing without his services and dealing with the inestimable George for those same two days might also teach himself not to trust in Merlin's tact!

…..

Tiredness wasn't a new sensation for Merlin. The amount of times he had spent all night researching threats, creatures, and or spells in the defence of Camelot and it's trouble prone king, was actually quite laughable. He had learned to deal with days of physical overwork by an oblivious monarch followed by nights of dull reading, leaving mind numbing exhaustion in its wake.

Not to mention those times of research generally tied with times of mortal peril and/or emotional upheaval. What generally followed were several nights of broken, troubled sleep where every decision he made would be picked apart by his subconscious, feelings of inadequacy in the face of failures coming to the fore and scenarios of how he should have done things differently.

This was a whole new level. Two nights. Just two of dreams he never remembered except as brief flashes of feelings. He'd had worse. Gods know there was a whole week of no real sleep when the citadel had fallen last time. Physical exertion almost constantly from the moment they left, till they reclaimed it and the constant worry for those left behind. Then almost immediately followed by three months of constantly running himself into the ground in the effort to reclaim the town from the rubble. This should not even touch the scale of weariness those months had produced let alone seem to surpass it.

He was well and truly baffled. The pulse of magic from two days ago hadn't been repeated. It may not have even been directed towards Camelot. It had seemed far distant at the time and nothing had come of it. None of their research had turned anything up. The Wave had been too indistinct to pinpoint anything, except that vague feeling of similarity to the feast, when the veil had been torn. And yet he could swear it had nothing to do with the veil at all. Perhaps his penchant for paranoia when it came to the safety of his king was finally getting to him. There was nothing to link the events in the courtyard to his sleepless nights and yet he couldn't shake the feelings of dread.

…..

Kilgharrah was now frantic. The wave of magic two days ago should have sent the young warlock hotfooting out of Camelot at the first opportunity, but there had been no contact at all. Even the ever present fuzzy hum that shivered along the soul bond had gone quiet. This was worse than he had first thought.

He couldn't feel him. He hadn't died. He **would** have felt that. But all efforts to send him a message had failed. Why couldn't he answer? He was stuck here, flying in literal circles. Straining for any sign, Unable to go forward, unwilling to go back.

To think, the great dragon had believed he had learned patience after so many years.

He had been wrong. This was a whole new lesson.


	7. Chapter 6 Definitely not normal

**A/N I'm on a roll. Honestly I don't know where all these words are coming from. I have never written anything this fast before. Can someone be a voracious writer? As opposed to a reader?**

**Ah well on with the fic.**

…

Chapter 6 Definitely not normal.

Merlin was on the floor.

**Again**!

And he ached, as though he'd had a practice session with every knight in Camelot at the same time.

Half remembered dreams fluttered behind his half closed lids as he willed his pounding heart to slow and gingerly tried to rise.

He made it to the edge of the bed on the third try and sat, head in his hands willing the room to stop spinning.

Gaius was worried.

This was the fourth day in a row Merlin had been late up. Arthur might jokingly think his servant lazy but Merlin was usually up with the dawn, doing chores for Gaius or his majesty, or on the rare occasions he did sleep past the first cocks crow, it was due to extra chores the night before or working to defend Arthur or Camelot from some major magical problem. This time there was no explanation except the mysterious illness of, coincidentally, four days ago.

Merlin had come out of his room every morning looking as if he had stared deaths keeper in the face and barely survived the experience. And Merlin wouldn't tell him why. Or rather, he couldn't tell him.

After calling him to breakfast for the third time with still no movement, Gaius moved to his door and opened it slowly.

Merlin was still sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed, but at a slight noise from the door, the young Warlock turned to look at his uncle with such pain in his eyes, Gaius was taken aback.

"Merlin? What is wrong?"

Just like that the pain was gone from his face, Shut away as if it had never been.

"I'm fine, just slept in again. His Royal pratness has been running me ragged lately."

"Are you sure that's all it is my boy? It's not too much of a stretch to realise this started when that magical disturbance hit."

Merlin rose from the bed and turned to his mentor with a touch of impatience, grabbing a clean shirt from the rack on the wall and one of his ever present neck cloths, "Honestly Gaius I'm fine. I'm just not sleeping so well, I've had worse and you know it. Its probably just stress at not finding anything. I just need to get moving or I'll be even later than I already am." Hurrying out the door, pulling his shirt over his head and juggling the neck cloth and his jacket from the peg in the main room, he turned and gave him one of his signature Merlin grins "Don't worry about me," Before running through the physician's chambers and out the door to the corridor.

'_I can't help but worry Merlin' _Gaius thought noting the slight pallor, the lack of usual sparkle in Merlin's eyes as he had smiled and the lack of food, Merlin never missed an opportunity to grab something, even if it was only bread. His ward had a nasty habit of downplaying any illnesses, until he just couldn't ignore them anymore. He was especially worried about those dreams only popping up now of all times. Merlin said he couldn't remember them so they didn't sound like they were prophetic, but still it was unsettling.

…

The king's chambers were still dark and the softly moving lump in the bed told him Arthur was still asleep. Gwen still being used to servant's hours had been up and about long since. He'd seen her talking earnestly to her new maid walking swiftly down the corridor as he'd come out of the kitchens, so he knew it was safe to just stroll in like he always had. He pulled open the curtains wincing as the light pierced his too sensitive eyes but still managed a semi cheery, and rather loud, "Good Morning Arthur" A groan was his only response. '_Well soon see about that mi'lord, if I have to get out of bed when I feel like hell you will too'_. Were Merlin's thoughts on the matter and proceeded to remove all the covers from the bed sorting the linens ready for washing as he went. Arthur groaned again and opened one bleary eye, "You **do** know who I am, don't you Merlin?"

"Yes sire, you're an ass and a royal one!"

" You can't speak to me like that." The king's statement, however, lacked any kind of conviction or censure and apparently having used all his energy he flopped back on the bed sans covers and proceeded to stretch like a cat, "Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around."

"No one else would put up with you. And you wouldn't last more than five seconds without me." Having pulled as many covers off as possible Merlin bundled the bedding into a basket by the door and proceeded to pick up discarded garments also depositing them in the basket before turning to the hearth and laying a fire, October had started and the air was chill. Having laid the kindling in amongst wood shavings and then creating a small structure of smaller sticks to get the fire started Merlin reached for the flint, only his hand seemed to glow for a second and with a familiar rush of his power raising from his core, the fire started on its own. No **not** on its own. his **magic** had started it but without conscious intent. To say Merlin was shocked was an understatement. He felt slightly sick too. Not normal! Definitely not normal!

The pillow caught him unawares, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. "Been at the tavern again have we?"

"Sire?"

"You've been sitting there moping and staring at your hand for the past ten minutes, I called you several times and you never answered, find something interesting? "

"Sorry sire."

"What no witty comeback?"

"Would if I could think of one." The response was quiet and the king wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard it. He eyed his friend, a little worried at his pallor and scattered wits.

"Just get my bath water Merlin and my breakfast" Merlin added a few more logs to the flames and moves to the door "And make sure it's hot, it was barely warm the last time!"

'_What is wrong with me?'_ Merlin's thoughts were chaotic as he made his way to the palace kitchens to heat water for Arthur's bath and to prepare his breakfast. Still struggling with his weakened state from four nights of very disturbed sleep, to suddenly find his magic, his very self rebelling was proving to be a great strain.

Perhaps that was it, stress, strain, lack of sleep and possible illness too. He couldn't help but think of what had happened in the courtyard, maybe it had something to do with it, but why now. It was only since waking this morning that Merlin had experienced symptoms very much like those of the flu he'd had a couple of winters ago. Perhaps the combination of everything was just proving a little too much right now and with a little care, he would be back to normal very soon. Lack of sleep did make people ill. Merlin snorted _"As if I'm going to get any care from anyone but Gaius"_ Merlin doubted the king would notice if he were ill, hell he'd probably chalk it up to being too long in the tavern again _"fat chance of that, my alcohol intolerance is legendary and I cant afford to be drunk with the fate of the kingdom on my shoulders. Can't afford to be ill either." _Feeling no happier with his assessment of his condition but unable to do anything about it now Merlin rounded the corner into the kitchens and grabbed the large buckets used to collect water and set off for the pump in the scullery.

This room had its own stove especially to heat the washing water and was always lit in the mornings ready for the servants of the nobles in residence. Merlin no longer **had** to do this chore, as the king's personal servant he could request another servant do it for him, but he'd felt unsettled since he woke from his nightmare and needed something physical to work out the tension. Placing the buckets under the pump and filling them with deep even strokes was actually quite therapeutic. Lifting the filled bucket wasn't as large a problem as everyone else might have thought; despite Merlin's straggly frame there was a great deal of came with the upbringing he supposed. Peasants didn't have servants to do things for them so they had to do it all themselves. He may not look strong, but he supposed in a way that was a good thing since people kept underestimating him. Merlin sighed. He knew looking and acting the fool was a perfect disguise, and he understood the necessity for it. He just wished Arthur could know him for who and what he really was, without living in fear of the consequences should Arthur ever suspect. He had realised a long time ago that the magic would be the lesser of the evils he would focus on. Oh he wouldn't be happy about it. But betrayal, lies and years of evasions were probably unforgivable. He wouldn't die when he revealed himself, but when the time did come he would most likely wish he had.

Going for the handle of the second full Bucket, Merlin's hand again glowed briefly and the bucket arose from the ground by a good foot before dropping heavily and splashing water everywhere, "What the hell?" A wave of profound dizziness swept over him and he had to grab the iron pump to steady himself, "Whoa!" Bile rose in his throat and he had to swallow a wave of nausea, the headache that had been nagging at the back of his consciousness since he'd awoken on the floor intensified tenfold. "This is not happening. Come on Merlin get yourself together, you are not sick, you are not allowed to be sick. Pull. Yourself. Together!" With a superhuman effort Merlin released his death grip of the pump and slowly straightened. The room still span but through sheer effort of will he remained standing, a fine sheen of sweat covering his upper body and face. Minutes passed and the water already on the stove started to bubble, he needed more water. Picking up the now half empty bucket he tipped the contents into the already heated water and made his way back to the pump, gritting his teeth at the effort. One more bucket added to the steaming copper pan and Merlin felt wrung out, he would leave the rest for another server to handle. Now all he had to do was summon enough wherewithal to gather a kingly breakfast.

Wiping his sodden face on a scrap of linen, stomach protesting and limbs leaden, he made his way back to the king's chambers after arranging the rest of the bath. Just walking seemed to be helping calm his stomach but his limbs were now starting to ache again and his head was a throbbing mass. Gripping the tray even tighter Merlin concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Focusing on the mundane tasks had soothed the urge to vomit somewhat but it hadn't gone, and he still felt dizzy and disoriented.

Returning to the royal chamber he found Arthur sat at his desk reading through his tasks for the day in his dressing robe, naked chest visible beneath the open front.

"Your breakfast sire, I'll set up the tub and martin will bring the water whilst you eat." Eyeing the plate Merlin carried his eyes lit on his favourite breakfast treat "Are those sausages?" Merlin just nodded regretting it the moment he had done, the action sending a phalanx of needles shooting through his skull.

"So no comments about me being fat?" Merlin couldn't bring himself to talk his head hurt too much just listening let alone talking. He just about moved to bend and place the tray very carefully in the middle of the desk. He hoped his friend realised how much effort he was putting into this. It was a forlorn one he realised a second later. "Have you been taking lessons from George, Merlin?"

"Not lately, no." The act of talking should be banned Merlin decided. The amount of energy used in the supposedly simple act of opening one's mouth and letting words flow out was simply astounding. No wonder Percival never spoke more than a dozen words at a time. Merlin now had a greater appreciation for his stoic friend's reluctance to part with words. Arthur was looking at him strangely. Nothing new there then. He managed to pour a goblet of watered wine and then giving a slight bow that nearly killed him he turned and walked out of the door at a snails pace.


	8. Chapter 7 Of illness and curses

Chapter 7 Of illness and curses.

Merlin felt awful. And afraid, very afraid.

He was using power without thinking, his control practically non existent. His magic had never felt so unsettled, even as a pubescent teenager, all raging hormones and his magic tied to his emotions, he had still been able to consciously pull back and restrain himself with effort. He felt off balance and his magic was becoming, for want of a better word, slippery.

No one had noticed the small instances of spilt magic so far but if it carried on they would. He made a conscious effort to dampen his roiling magic as it threatened to spill out yet again. This time as he went to clear the breakfast dishes in Arthur's chambers whilst his king was finishing his bath. He put his hand out to grab a goblet and all the plates started moving toward his outstretched hand. He quickly put his hand down and the goblet fell over with a clatter. He'd not had so little control since he was a toddler and even then the magic within hadn't felt so…threatening! His magic had always been a part of him, something he could always feel as a warm and vibrant, golden glow at the core of his being, something comforting. Even as he reluctantly used it as something more destructive it was always HIS intent that made it so, never the magic itself. But this, it felt darker, agitated, like a whirlpool, and he was being sucked in to someplace he did not want to go!

"I don't pay you to stand around looking at the dishes _Mer_lin. What is wrong with you today?" He'd forgotten the crockery, lost in his internal battle. And he had no time for the usual banter, he had to get away, NOW! Grabbing the dishes haphazardly he turned and exited the room almost sprinting, not looking back and so unable to see the look of anxious concern directed towards him. This was more than usually disturbing behaviour. "Sorry sire, got to run!" Panting with the effort to contain his power, whilst almost running down the corridor to the kitchens, he never saw the serving boy come out of the intersecting corridor till it was too late. The inevitable collision was loud and messy.

The wine from the young servers tray splattered up the wall and mingled with the dirty cutlery, cups and plates, "Honestly Merlin can you be more idiotic?" Merlin being somewhat preoccupied by his internal turmoil, failed to note the touch of fondness and exasperation threaded through his tone, only registering that the king had actually followed him. Not now oh gods not now. He was still laying on the floor and the prince would no doubt think him a worse fool, but Merlin couldn't get up if he tried. There was a war being raged and though the battlefield was a very different prospect to what the king would be used to it was no less deadly.

"Merlin?" No response. The king knelt down and shook Merlin's shoulder." Come on Merlin, You can't be that badly hurt, don't be such a big girls petticoat!" The young serving lad looked on with terrified eyes as the man he'd run into failed to respond. "What happened?"

_Oh lord king Arthur's looking at me_. The terrified boys thoughts were full of dire punishments for injuring the king's favourite servant, "He was coming down the corridor, I didn't see him, I don't think he saw me, we just ran into each other, is he going to be ok?" If anything he looked more frightened when Arthur turned Merlin over from where he'd been curled on his side. The man looked terrible. Dark hollows round his eyes, rapidly greying skin and a fine sheen of sweat covering his face and reaching down a neck with muscles taut as bowstrings and the worst thing, the absolute worst thing, were his eyes. Open, but dull, and unseeing, and flashing with internal sparks.

Arthur looked stunned. This wasn't from his fall just now this was something else. The man was ill damn it and he never said a word. "Get Gaius. Now!" the softly spoken command was said with such force. The boy scrambled up and fairly flew down the corridors to Gaius chambers. He knew something was wrong this morning. Why did his friend have to be so stubborn? Anyone else in the face of illness or injury would send word he'd be unavailable for however long it took to get well again and enjoy milking the sympathy for all it was worth. Merlin on the other hand worked. There had been times in the past where he had, like now, carried on to the point his body just simply stopped functioning properly. Arthur thought in the last few years he had been gaining the upper hand when it came to noticing signs of distress and would subtly alter the routine to accommodate. Conspiring with Gaius to make sure he had the rest he needed if all else failed. He would be having words when he woke.

With two fingers Arthur checked Merlin's pulse finding it erratic, and weak, like the fluttering of a trapped bird.

"Ah-thr Go!" The faint breathy voice of his manservant cutting across Arthur's conscience, "Merlin? Hang in there, I've sent for Gaius, he'll be here soon. Have you any idea what's wrong?"

"Ah-thr" The voice if anything was weaker than before but Merlin's hand lifted up and clutched the king's tunic, "Get way, don wanna hurt you! Can't hold it! Please Ahthur?" The hand tightened its hold twisting the fine linen in an agonised grip, His eyes rolled up and his whole body stiffened, as he opened his mouth with a blood curdling scream. The king gripped Merlin's shoulders and held on with all his strength as Merlin convulsed, his legs flailing. The scream had brought a crowd, amongst them sirs Gwaine and Perceval, their shocked faces taking the scene in at a glance and they hurried to help wordlessly. Gwaine picked Merlin's head off the floor and bracing his back against the wall, folded his arms around his chest. Meanwhile Perceval added his considerable bulk to Merlin's legs trying to contain the shudders that wracked his seemingly weak body.

"Gads, for someone so small, this boy's got the strength of a horse! Sorry make that a whole herd of horses!" He added as Merlin's slight frame bucked once more with more strength than either man would have believed.

Relieved of his struggling servant Arthur tried in vain to see what was causing this sudden and inexplicable ailment, noting that Merlin's breathing seemed to be getting harsher, with incoherent mumbling interspersed with sharp gasps. He remembered something similar when Merlin saved his life by drinking the poisoned wine in his first year as Arthur's servant. Oh god was he poisoned again? It didn't look like any normal illness, in fact the king had never seen it's like before. Merlin started batting weakly at Gwaine's arms, "G'roff, Move. Can't!"

"Can't what Merlin?"

"Can't stop, must go!"

"Go where? Can't stop what? Merlin?" Arthur's words seemed to penetrate the agony for a moment and he turned to him eyes wild and said the one word he would never have expected "Magic! Can't stop it, Go Pleeeasse! AAAHhhhgggggg!" Head thrown back once more the convulsions ripping through him, Gwaine, raised shocked eyes to his prince, "He's been attacked with MAGIC?!" Arthur couldn't think. Magic. The last thing he would have thought, but not so surprising considering Camelot seemed to be a magnet for magical attacks. They needed Gaius and fast. He looked away down the corridor hoping the older man wasn't too far away. The people crowding the passage were too numerous to allow a clear sight to the stairwell where Gaius would hopefully emerge, but a slight shifting in the crowd told him someone was coming through. There, a head moved and allowed a partial glimpse of the familiar white haired man. Shifting to a standing position he started clearing a path through from this side to allow easier access for the physician. "Thank god you're here, he seems to think it's magic." There was undisguised panic in the young king's face, and hearing the word Magic Gaius glanced sharply between the king and his ward still held tightly in Gwaine's arms. About to bend down to start his examination he noticed it. High on his neck just visible under his neckerchief was a round, black, mark no bigger than a small coin, he had hoped never to see in his lifetime. Hastily pulling the cloth down he traced the intertwined snakes within the black circle with his finger knowing they had but moments until his magic erupted, he responded with a panicked cry, "Gwaine, Perceval, get off him and move NOW!" He turned to the king, terror lacing every quiet word "You have to get these people out of here now. It's too dangerous for them to stay!"

"I'm not leaving him!" Gwaine, stubborn to the end, still held his struggling friend, glaring daggers.

"If you value your life Gwaine you will do as I ask." The quiet strength and conviction of Gaius's words convinced the hot headed knight as nothing else could, and he gently laid Merlin's head and shoulders back on the floor. He quickly removed, and folded his cape under the dark hair, before standing and moving to stand slightly behind the physician.

The crowd was slowly and reluctantly moving away. Arthur turned to the physician, "You know what this is." It was a statement, not a question. Gaius raised troubled eyes from his ward, still weakly thrashing. A faint Gold shimmer slowly spreading from his hands, up and over his arms, to his chest and head. "I have only heard of this, I have never actually seen it! Move back sire!" He pulled the king back just as Merlin gave another ear splitting scream and pulses of gold lightning sparked around the prone figure. Arthur's eyes were nearly popping from his head. The spilled dishes had risen from the floor and were now weaving around Merlin's prone form. Arthur didn't raise his eyes from his friend, "Gaius, are we in danger?"

"Not unless you touch him, no!" Arthur did turn to Gaius at that. "Just what is this? He said it was Magic? Is it a curse? What the hell is going on?"


	9. Chapter 8 Bloodrites

**A/N Ok seriously this fic was only supposed to be 10 chapters long. I had them all planned out and everything. Then of course the characters started to rebel and my supposed first chapter after the prologue became my seventh and now I have no clue how many I will end up with. Ah well I always did love surprises!**

**Thankyou so much to every single reviewer you are amazing!**

**Merlin doesn't belong to me, he belongs to himself! And the BBC, mutters under breath.**

…..

Chapter 8 Bloodrites

Gaius was torn as to what to tell them. Yes in a way it was a curse. Though it was of Merlin's own magic's making, even if it still had to have been manipulated by an outside influence, but how to say it without the king finding out about Merlin's magic. So maybe the truth, though not the whole truth.

"It is a curse sire and a powerful one, if what I suspect is true the onset would have been four days ago. You remember Gwaine and I told you Merlin wasn't well. We could find no real explanation for it. He hasn't been sleeping well since, troubled by dreams. They are one of the symptoms so I was told and the mark there on his neck just confirmed it." He pointed to the symbol. The black shape looking for all the world like a tattoo. It affects the person it was cast upon and only that person, unless you touch him when it's at full strength and then, well I'm not sure what would happen but I'm certain it would not be a pleasant experience." The king looked thoughtful and a little shocked, Gwaine just looked vaguely guilty, goodness knows why. "You couldn't have done anything Gwaine. The people who did this wouldn't even have been in Camelot. It's the only thing I know that can be cast from a great distance."

"Gods, wait you said only that person, you mean specifically Merlin? Why would anyone curse Merlin? And how would they be able to."

"I'm not too sure, sire but we need to sedate him, the longer he stays like this the more danger he represents. What little I know of it, it should only affect him whilst he's awake." His medicine bag was already open and Gaius was rummaging around in it looking for something specific.

"Should Gaius? You mean you don't know?"

"No sire, as I said I have only heard of such a thing, and that was over forty years ago. What little knowledge I have of it is somewhat…spotty. What I do know is that the curse is effective only whilst the person is conscious. I only hope that we will be able to move him once he is asleep." The king was looking extremely sceptical at this rather far fetched sounding tale, but he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Gaius had come across more weird and wonderful phenomenon in his years than Arthur had been alive.

"Ahh this should help!" A small bottle of pale amber liquid appeared in Gaius's hands.

"If we can't touch him how are we going to give it to him." The King was eyeing the sparks emanating from the moaning, man, His arms and legs were still flapping albeit weaker than before, but enough to ensure that the job of giving the tincture would be difficult without restraining him. A small, hollow, wooden pipe appeared in the physician's hands with faint notches cut into the side. He opened the bottle and dipped the tube into the liquid to the correct notch, placed his finger over the end and kneeling next to his ward, dripped the liquid into his mouth, scuttling back when one of his arms suddenly flopped too near the older man. It was an ingenious device and Arthur was rather impressed.

Slowly but surely Merlin's jerking body stilled and the glow faltered, his breathing evened from the harsh rasps he had been emitting before into the deep and regular rhythm of unconsciousness. The stillness was absolute. The crowd of curious Nobles and castle staff had been dispersed but the rest of the round table knights had shown up over the last few moments.

Not a man still left in the corridor dared move for fear of bringing about another episode like the last. Eventually the last of the flickering gold sparks vanished leaving a profound absence of sound they were all loath to break. But break it Gaius must in order to treat his nephew. Gaining his feet somewhat unsteadily, gripping the wall for support, he turned to Arthur. "We need to move him Sire. The danger has passed for now but we need to take him to my chambers as soon as possible. The drug I gave him will afford us a few hours of peace but we must find a remedy soon, we cannot keep him sedated indefinitely."

Percival made to move forward and pick the boy up, but was waved back by the King as he scooped his arms around the skinny frame, Gods the boy was all bone, no weight at all. It became quite a procession Gaius and the King leading, with Merlin dangling unceremoniously, followed by the knights in a straggling line, all looking extremely worried, even Gwaine who could make a joke with his last breath was uncharacteristically serious.

On entering the cluttered workroom Arthur lay the boy down on the cot in the main room and stood back to let the physician through.

"Right, now. What is it you suspect? And what can we do to effect a cure?"

"As you may know sire before the purge I practiced sorcery, but gave it up once the purge began."

"My father did mention that yes."

"What your father may not have told you is that during my apprenticeship, when I was little more than your age now, I spent a considerable amount of time learning healing magic from the druids."

Arthur looked puzzled, "You're not saying the druids have anything to do with this? I thought they were a peaceful people?"

"I believe they are peaceful, on the whole, but with any culture there are factions with differing opinions within the clans. I first heard of this curse the '_Anginn sylfum'_ or blood rites whilst studying with them. It was designed as a punishment, one of the most severe. I have heard of it being used only twice and never in my lifetime. It was told to us as a warning. Only the most terrible of abuses would warrant it. And the whole Community would have to agree without doubt to the person's guilt. Every other avenue of punishment would have been pursued until this was the only one left before it would even be contemplated. Only a high priest or priestesses had the control to use it and usually they would have several other magic users to give energy. There is only one now with the level of power and skill needed to cast such magic even with help."

"Morgana!"

"Indeed. She hates Merlin and would do anything to gain revenge. This is a cruel curse and is just the kind of deviousness she would try, though how she gained such expertise is beyond me. The druids are very protective of all their knowledge and do not suffer outsiders to be taught often. I was very privileged in their tuition. It worries me greatly that she has managed to gain this information."

"You believe the druids are working with her?"

"I don't know sire."

"What could they hope to gain from it? Merlin is a servant. Admittedly he is my servant, but still. I have already agreed to treat the druids with respect. This makes no sense."

"Unless they hope to hurt you through the people you care about. I know you care for him as a friend. Morgana knows this too, she may see this as a way to kill two birds with one stone. Gain revenge on both you and Merlin at the same time." Leon, standing quietly by the king's shoulder until this moment, had hit on a very plausible story and Gaius hoped Arthur took this explanation at face value. He was extremely anxious to keep Merlin's magic out of the equation, although the possibility of that was looking dimmer by the hour. It was true Morgana would have thought of doing something like this, had tried to in the past but he prayed that she was doing this to Emrys and hadn't made the connection between Merlin and Camelot's elusive protector. If she ever did, it would be a disaster.

"To go to such extremes to harm a person she had considered a friend…..She truly has changed beyond recognition. What happened to the kind compassionate girl we knew?" Arthur's question was rhetorical but it echoed within all their minds. Morgana was no longer anyone they recognised. He suddenly looked defeated, the weight of responsibility and betrayal settling almost noticeably like a mantle upon his young frame. Then he glanced once more at Merlin's sleeping face and the king was back determination shining from every pore as his back straightened.

"What can we do? How do we combat it?

"I don't know. I'm going to have to check the information I know and go from there. This is extremely powerful magic sire and as such needs to be treated with great caution. We have a good few hours to work yet. But I do have one request. I may need access to the forbidden texts. Nothing in my library holds any information we can use. The general library may not hold the data we require either. This is druidic lore and wouldn't have been readily available even before the purge. The druids rarely committed anything to parchment"

"I would rather not open the restricted section of the library Gaius." The old mans shoulders slumped slightly. Arthur however had not finished and his next words gave him hope. "If however, there is nothing of any help within the ordinary library. You may use the restricted section. Nothing is to be brought out of the area and both the knights need to be there with you. You are one of the few people I would trust with such dangerous material. If it will help cure Merlin I will allow it this once." The relief on Gaius' face was palpable

"Thank you sire, I will of course try every other avenue of enquiry first. Would someone sit with the boy I need to see Geoffrey and Merlin needs to be dosed every four hours, I don't know how long this may take."

"Elyan, Perceval go with Gaius, see if you can help speed up the process. Gwaine, could you let Gwen know what's happened, she would never forgive me if she wasn't informed. Leon go down to the training field and get Sir Bedivere and Sir Acton to take the training this afternoon, then you and Gwaine let the council know that I have been detained. Don't tell them what has happened, tell them… tell them it looks like there has been an attack, that Merlin was injured, we are investigating, but we have it contained. If this is a curse it could be the first step in a deeper plot and I want all angles covered. I will keep watch over Merlin, come back here when you're done, Gwen will probably come here and I need her protected."

"Yes sire." The knight's now having their instructions filed out. Moving to their correct destinations with clear purpose helped to settle the worry each felt at the fate of their youngest companion. Merlin was like a little brother to each of them, friend to all and to see him laying there looking so vulnerable was too much. They each felt protective of the young man, but this was no foe they could combat with their usual skills. It was frustrating, made them feel helpless and just a touch useless.

…...

**A/N Anginn sylfum literally translates to blood rites **


	10. Chapter 9 Peasant Queen

**A/N The plot thickens.**

**I keep finding things I want to put in between the Chapters i've already written, points of view I never considered till I was writing it properly. I hope you like reading them as much as I like writing them. This story is so far beyond what I had originally planned It's hardly recognisable. I've come to realise the plot I had was just the bare bones, I'm now trying to put a bit of flesh on it. Hope it's working.**

...

Chapter 9 Peasant Queen.

Seven years and a good few months ago, if anyone had ever bothered to ask whether Gwen wanted to be queen, she would have laughed gaily, blushed beet red and told them they were an idiot. Being queen would have meant marrying Arthur, and in her own words to Merlin _"Who would want to marry Arthur?"_ and yet here she was, loving every moment of it. The duties of a queen were not onerous. She revelled in the chance to be able to really help theses people. **Her** people!

Her marriage was the greatest joy. Arthur had come a long way. In fact it would be safe to say that Arthur was as different now to that spoiled prince of so long ago, as night was to day. She could pinpoint the exact moment of the beginning of his much needed transformation, to that first step Merlin took towards the training grounds.

Up till that point the whole of Camelot had been Arthur's for the taking. Dealing with sycophantic adoration from the moment you were born would do that to a person. She did believe Arthur knew what his companions were like and played on it shamelessly. Protecting his heart from hurt by constructing a persona he lived up to in order to project a more confident individual than perhaps he really was. She believed this because his slow metamorphosis from self serving prat, to a compassionate king could not have happened if he were truly irredeemable.

Merlin had a true gift. He could see things in others, they themselves had trouble finding. Their rag tag group of friends was proof. He had seen Lancelot's nobility even before he had sacrificed himself so selflessly. Gwaine's generosity and determination had been well hidden beneath that façade of drunken revelry. Leon's sense of duty was now tempered with gentleness and humour. Perceval's kindness and devotion was now more prominent, her brother Elyan had found his purpose as her staunchest defender. Even Gaius had been given a new lease of life. His wise council and temperate, measured responses in the face of life threatening and emotionally charged situations were given with an energy usually reserved for a much younger man.

The whole of Camelot had blossomed when he came into their lives and she was so proud to realise she had been his very first friend. She still remembered the first time she had spoken to him. Elfin features turned towards the sun. Gamine grin fixed firmly between dimpled cheeks, thoroughly enjoying his audience of giggling children, even with their baskets of rotting projectiles.

He had told her he was in disguise and she believed him wholeheartedly. He was no ordinary man. He was a fallen angel sent to bring hope and life to what had been a rather dismal existence. She did wonder if it was at all healthy for a kingdom to be so dependent on a single entity. He would take the sun with him if he ever left and turn the world grey.

He had known somehow that she was destined for better things from the first instant. He had always been there chivvying her along, believing in her, pushing her to be the greatest she could be. Just as he did for others. He brought out the best in everyone he met.

So you can imagine her shock when Gwaine explained. That Merlin had fallen ill. That he was struck down with something science may not be able to help, and by Morgana of all people. She had tried to open her mouth to thank him in the calm, Queenly manner she had adopted since her elevation to royalty, but the words stuck in her throat. They manifested instead as a half strangled sob and the dam of her tears broke, as she turned, hitching her skirts as she ran towards her dearest friend.

Her dignity forgotten she charged through the passages of the citadel, not registering the disapproval or the confusion of its inhabitants. One thought paramount. That Merlin had been cursed by Morgana before. The Fomorrah had taken her friend and twisted him out of all recognition, he had come back from that experience with her help but she still remembered the shame in his eyes for weeks afterward. She did not want that to happen again.

…...

The Gods of the old religion hadn't walked the mortal realm for years without number. Contenting themselves to keep watch from afar, using one of the great treasures. The window of the world could show everything and nothing at once. The images decided by the whims of its protectors.

The current image of a very forlorn bronze dragon slightly amused the God now watching. Khilgarrah was a proud creature and he would not like the role Amaethon had planned, even if the state was only temporary. A Dragonlord needed their dragon and at this time Khilgarrah was unable to assist. Oh he couldn't wait to see what the dragon would make of this. The situation was serious yes, but oh he hadn't had such fun in a long time!

With a chuckle, he turned away from the window and made ready to depart the God's domain.

…...

A lone figure hurried across the lower town, dodging the piles of refuse and oblivious townsfolk alike. With all the commotion at the citadel, she knew she would not be missed for a while. Her destination was a leather workers shop situated on the edge of the merchant quarter specialising in finely tooled belts, and decorative goods for the more well to do members of the city.

The smell of warm leather reached out to enfold her as she walked through the door, reminding her of her father. The owner knew her. She had been here several times before.

"Uncle Danis." The woman inclined her head to the artisan. "I need to send a message."

"Something wrong Mari, you're early?" Mouse brown hair flying every which way she shook her head.

"I don't know whether it's significant but I was told to keep an eye out for anything unusual." Her hazel eyes looked a little troubled as if she feared she wasn't doing the right thing at all. "The king's manservant is ill and the others are saying it's magic."

"Did they say anything else?

"The queen seemed very agitated, the king has disappeared and the inner circle hasn't been seen much since it happened. I don't know if it's important but no one seems to know anything else for fact. There are so many rumours flying round, it's a bit difficult to find out for sure."

"I'll send a raven this evening. You did well Mari." Her smile lit her face, transforming her regular, even features to something rather pretty, as she exited the shop and made her way back to the castle.


	11. Chapter 10 Not a Dragon?

**A/N Slight spoilers for end season 5 so if you haven't watched I apologise. **

**Oh and I think the dragon deserves this, he was very manipulative in the show. I couldn't resist.**

…**..**

Chapter 10 Not a Dragon?

Dappled sunlight painted the forest floor, as the Lord of Magic strode through the trees. He had forgotten what it was like to walk the earth he helped to build. He took pleasure in the feel of the landscape around him. How had they become so removed from their own creation. It seemed that even whilst he was unaware of his true purpose, Emrys was already becoming the bridge between the worlds. The thrumming ley lines of liquid power running just under the surface vibrated happily with his passing as he contemplated. Perhaps when this was all over he could bring Frige for a brief stay.

The trees thinned up ahead. The sleeping bulk of scales, tail and teeth of the Great dragon just visible behind clumps of grey limestone and gorse. His rare smile broke through at the rather wicked plan they had hatched. Surely his wife had the most marvellous mischievous streak that perfectly matched his own. There were a lot of things he was re-learning in this endeavour. He had a lot of things to thank his son for.

Standing directly in front of an unconscious creature with the capability to breathe fire, and poking it with a metaphorical magic stick, would have been abysmally stupid if the person had been mortal. Luckily for the dragon, Gods of Magic tend to be somewhat more inflammable than the average creature and all Amaethon experienced was a warm breeze. It took the dragon a while to realise just who had woken him. This was unexpected. Even when Khilgarrah had first been hatched the Gods of the old religion had been fading from the world of men.

"My, my so young and hot headed!" Khilgarrah supposed he really shouldn't take offence at the lord of magic's amused tone, he had just tried to burn him to a crisp, and for all that he was a thousand years old it would still only class as the blink of an eye to an immortal deity, but it was hard.

"Why are you here Amaethon?"

"Such blatant disrespect. It's quite refreshing." The dragon scowled at the god not caring that he was being foolish. He was not in the mood to chat with a creature who's like had no business here.

"Ah such impatience. Fine, I shall tell you. I am here to help my son!" The look of surprise directed at Amaethon turned just as suddenly to a frown. "It was you! Do you realise what you have done?" His voice rose an octave and he was almost shouting at the being.

"I know to the finest detail what I have done. You know perfectly well I do not act without reason." The amused expression had slipped from Amaethon's features at the dragon's words. "You have manipulated my child to act in a way that will harm the balance. This will be rectified."

"The prophecy has to be fulfilled for magic to return. I never manipulated Emrys. I gave him the advice he asked for." The dragon was confused, how could gently nudging the agents of destiny down the roads laid down in the annals of time constitute manipulation.

"You truly have no idea what you put into motion do you?" Amaethon's pity was palpable.

"So tell me." The dragon was genuinely concerned now. The Gods had a much finer grasp of the larger picture than even the dragons.

"The death of Arthur will be Emrys' breaking point. You forget I think that my son is also human. His grief will be so great the world will weep and there will be no turning back. Emrys will retreat from the world one step at a time and magic will wither. The once and future king will never be able to return. If he is to become the guardian he is meant to be, the prophecy must bend."

"You have seen this?"

"No, not I. Emrys' mother Frige." Khilgarrah had always suspected that there had been a certain amount of divine intervention to Merlin's birth, but to have it confirmed that not one, but two, great deities considered the boy to be their progeny was a little unnerving. He was unquestionably a child of the elements. Even without his Dragonlord heritage he would have been able to order the Dragon's once he came into his full powers. Even the Sihde would have a hard time to resist his command, it was a lot to take in.

"You said bend, not break. If he does not follow the path he will not find himself, how then will you bend it?"

"I cannot tell you. Your reactions must be your own. But I have a task for you. You must go to Camelot. Emrys needs you. I am not countermanding your lord's order for the foreseeable future, just for this."

"He will not be happy. Just how do you expect me to get into Camelot and demand an audience with him, when the whole castle believes me to be dead. There would be panic in the streets, I wouldn't get near him."

"As to that, we have contrived a way." The rather evil smile did not reassure the dragon one bit. He was not going to like this. "You will ask for Gaius and Merlin directly. I'm sure someone will point you in his direction."

"How will I….Oh no, no ,no, I won't do it!" Finally understanding dawned, Amaethon just laughed, the dragon's expression had been even better than he had imagined.

….

Even in human form Khilgarrah was bronze. There was no other word for it. His hair was halfway between brown and gold, with a metallic sheen that would have looked rather unnatural on any other human but seemed to work on the transformed dragon. His eyes were a shade lighter than sherry and his skin from a distance looked tanned but on closer inspection shimmered, a lightly sparkling gold. His face was deeply wrinkled and even now had a positively draconian caste.

Altogether he looked like a rich merchant from a very hot and exotic country, especially when the flowing robes, white stallion and loaded pack mule were taken into consideration.

Khilgarrah of course did not appreciate any of it. "Just how long do you expect me to stay like this?"

"As long as is needed, understand that this is your punishment. After this is over I will restore you and consider your debt to my family paid in full." Khilgarrah would have to count himself lucky it was to be only a temporary state. Even dragonkind were subject to the will of the Gods. He had angered them and the retribution could have been so much worse.

"Look after our son. He is precious to us." With that he walked away fading as he did so, obviously returning home. Khilgarrah pondered the nature of Amaethon for a moment longer and then stiffly mounting the horse, rode towards the gates of Camelot.


	12. Chapter 11 Not what the doctor ordered

**A/N This will probably be my only post of today, sorry guys. Am experiencing a small amount of writers block on the next two chapters. I'm having to swap between them to keep myself going. They are being very stubborn, although some of the problem can be attributed to my decision to scrap half of them and start again (if I ever decide to do something that daft again you have my permission to slap me). They will probably be up tomorrow.**

**...**

Chapter 11 Not what the doctor ordered.

Riding a horse was not an experience Khilgarrah ever wished to repeat. The god had gifted him with the knowledge of how to ride, as part of the subterfuge he would have had to have the correct responses to a horse, even if this one was made with pure magic.

The actual experience of riding however was disturbing. How many times had he admonished Merlin that he was not a horse, and wondered briefly, **why**, Merlin would ever want to get on his back. It wasn't as if he was afraid of heights, he was a dragon for goodness sake he **flew** leagues higher than this. It was more the fact he was now having to rely on the movements of another seemingly living creature, he couldn't actually say with any certainty the horse was alive either. It did feel real but a God with a damned pernickety sense of humour had conjured it and he didn't trust him not to have given him an animated rock. It certainly felt like one to his abused thighs.

Amaethon however, did fail spectacularly at mentioning the most pertinent point. That riding for any length of time would **hurt. **Already having to deal with walking, of all things, he hadn't expected to have to do so bow legged. He only hoped the god and his Dragonlord appreciated his efforts. This body was very uncomfortable and awkward, he couldn't wait to be rid of it.

There was the sticking point. To be restored he had to go to the city he almost destroyed, meet with an unresponsive Dragonlord and do….goodness knows what.

Oh he understood the need to be vague when giving advice on occasion, it was always better to give his charge clues to work things out himself so he could gain wisdom from the experience rather than telling him all and not have him learn anything. Now of course when the same policy was directed at him, he was a tad resentful. He was over a thousand years old, what lesson had he apparently overlooked. It was no use, he would have to ponder this later. He was here.

Asking for directions from a gate guard and being able to walk through the streets of Camelot, viewing it from the same perspective of his Dragonlord, was a whole new experience for Khilgarrah. He had never realised how small humans were until he had to be one. Perhaps this was why they had to build walls higher than themselves, it made them seem safer. He knew how tall he was as a dragon and marvelled at the fact that Merlin and even to some degree, the knights had faced him. He doubted he would be so quick to dismiss the courage of the race in future. Amaethon had surely given him a punishment designed to make him think.

The directions and advice from the guard had sent him to this stable. Dismounting had been a painful experience, and his new legs were trembling whilst he waited for the stable boy who according to the guard would look after his horse and mule. A pouch of small coin and the answer to the question of the whereabouts of Gaius's chamber later. Khilgarrah slowly and somewhat awkwardly made his way onward, safe in the knowledge that at least Amaethon had been thorough whilst provisioning him for this endeavour. He was rather glad that he wouldn't arouse suspicion from not being able to pay the boy.

…

Gwen hadn't known what to expect when she finally burst through the door, but to see just her husband sitting quietly by the bed, intently studying the peacefully sleeping features of his friend in an empty room, was not it. She had perhaps thought there would be people underfoot, crowding round, getting in the way. Gaius would obviously be reading to try and find a solution. Possibly a mild air of panic and industry would pervade the place.

The scene in front of her didn't seem to fit with the extreme worry Gwaine had been trying to conceal whilst he delivered the news. It was…tranquil. In a way that calmed her nerves and allowed her to gather her wits enough to enquire almost normally after Merlin's current health. "How is he?" Arthur turned eyes full of anxiety towards her.

"He's resting comfortably. I don't know what this is doing to him physically. His breathing and heart seem fine. Apart from that I just don't know." Gwen stepped over to her husband and put her arms around him. She could see how much this situation was affecting him by the subtle way he leaned into her touch more than usual.

"What happened?"

"He collapsed. I thought he was ill. You know how Merlin is, works himself to the point of collapse before he'd admit he needs time off. Then he started having some kind of seizures. Kept babbling about magic and we had to go. How he knew it was magic I have no clue. We'd already sent for Gaius. When he came he found this mark." His fingers hovered over it but didn't touch, he seemed afraid to as if it might somehow transfer to his own skin if he did. The snakes on the tiny mark were so perfect in detail they almost seemed to be winking, as if daring the king to try. "Gaius knew what it was, said it was some kind of blood rite, whatever that is and that it was specifically aimed at Merlin. We think Morgana's trying to get at us through him though why she would do so I don't know. I never thought she would try this."

Gwen was battling with herself, on the one hand she knew why, and so badly wanted to tell her husband. He had a right to know that Morgana had tried before. On the other, it was not her secret to tell. She well remembered the look of sadness and guilt that had shadowed Merlin's eyes for weeks after. It had never been his fault, he couldn't even remember what had happened for those days when he had tried to kill his king, but she had respected the fact he could not face telling his best friend what he had been ordered to do. Now however she was a Queen. She had a duty to look to the safety of an entire kingdom. The choice to tell or not came down to one simple point. Would withholding such facts result in danger being directed at the people she had vowed to protect? In this instance she believed Merlin would want her to tell him. He had always tried to take such good care of everyone, if the choice came to withhold pertinent information to protect his heart or reveal his humiliation in order to save his friends, she knew without doubt which he would choose.

"Morgana tried getting to you before, using Merlin. I think he was just a convenient tool last time but he overcame it and now I think she wants revenge for her failed attempt!" She had spoken rather quickly trying not to think lest she change her mind on the wisdom of speaking out and the effort left her a little breathless.

"When?" Arthur's eyebrows rose alarmingly then plummeted into a deep frown, trying unsuccessfully to work out when such a thing could have occurred.

"You remember, when Merlin was found in the bog. After you were ambushed at the valley of fallen kings?" Arthur nodded to say he had recalled the incident. "Those days he was missing, he was, well…Morgana had strung him up in her hut. She used this snake. Gaius called it a Fomorrah." Arthurs startled eyes rounded on his servant.

"Why didn't he tell me?" He was honestly confused. Why would he think he needed to keep something like that from him?

"Arthur he was so ashamed. I've never seen him look so defeated. Gaius, and I helped him overcome it but I think he thought he should have fought harder against it. I don't think he could face up to what it had nearly made him do."

"What did….what did he try and do?" Like a freak accident where you know you shouldn't look but you can't turn your head away, he just knew he would not like where this was leading.

"Arthur." Gwen was all gentleness and concern, it didn't help. Alarm bells were being set off in his brain. "He was told to kill you!" And there it was, his worst fears realised, his dearest friend had been enchanted to do murder, and he hadn't felt able to confide in him.

The knock on the chamber door, swiftly followed by a young redheaded guard leading an unusual looking man into the room, was a more than welcome distraction to his disquiet. The guard looked taken aback at finding both the King and Queen sat talking earnestly in an all but empty room with the legs of an unconscious servant just visible, laid out behind them. He did however recover his aplomb rather quickly, much to the admiration of his monarch. "I'm sorry sire we were looking for Gaius. Master Garrah here wished to see him."

"The court physician is currently in the library, could you go and fetch him. He's been down there a while. And would you send a servant for lunch for….7 people." He didn't think it would be long before all the knights converged back towards Merlin. The younger man seemed to draw people like a lodestone.

"Master Garrah. Welcome to Camelot."

"My Lady, Sire." Gwen was shifting forward in order to greet the newcomer, and as she did so more of Merlin became visible. His mouth dropped open and ignoring the Queen's outstretched hand fell to his knees by the cot. "Merlin. Oh what have you done to yourself now?"

Arthur and Gwen were a little surprised at the reaction, but if the man knew Gaius it stood to reason he would also know the man's ward. They couldn't really blame the man for his rudeness, it was probably a bit of a shock to find Merlin laid out like that.

"Make that lunch for 8." If Master Garrah knew Merlin and Gaius he was most probably going to want to stay. The guard gave a brief bow and exited leaving Arthur and Gwen to deal with the odd individual.


	13. Chapter 12 Questions so many questions

**A/N Ok so I lied and this will be posted today after all. What can I say? I was inspired after I posted the last chapter.**

**I don't own Merlin but Dragoon reminds me of my dearly departed granddad. Is that wrong?**

…..

Chapter 12 Questions so many questions.

All that could be heard in the quiet room was the turning of dust encased pages, The scritch of Geoffrey's quill and the small sighs and gentle breathing of the four occupants.

Geoffrey had been rather surprised to see the two knights at Gaius's back and even more so when he knew what Gaius was looking for. Druidic texts had been few and far between even before Uther had started his rampage. They were a secretive people when it came to outsiders and didn't trust easily. Gauis of course knew that Geoffrey had done everything he could to save as many of his precious books from that time as he could disguising them to look like they contained much more innocuous subject matter.

To this day he still felt some small measure of shame at the subterfuge. Like Gaius he was old enough to know that Uther's preaching's about magic being wholly evil were in effect, completely wrong, but with no real power to do anything to change those views. Especially when to speak out would have been an act of treason likely to lead directly to the noose. Those books had been his small rebellion against an unjust law system and despite the guilt at defying a direct order from his king he couldn't be displeased that he had saved the knowledge contained within.

He had been saddened at Merlin's condition once it had been explained. He had liked the lad. The stares of disapproval Geoffrey aimed at him when he appeared in his domain were more for his clumsiness and lack of care, than for his learning. He had been a very bright boy, and well informed on a vast array of subjects, not that he would have expected any less from the ward of his old friend. Gaius always did believe that education was extremely important and could solve a wide variety of problems, they were very much alike in that respect.

The problems had come when he had realised that his library simply had very little to offer. He knew of only ten volumes even counting those in the restricted collection that even hinted at druidic teachings. But he had dutifully brought them out and helped with the search. He **had** found references to the rites but nothing specific just notes about other sources that were now unavailable or destroyed. All in all, this quest for a cure was proving less than fruitful.

They had been searching without avail for a fair few hours now and what little snippets they had garnered duly noted, when the Guard arrived to say a gentleman merchant had arrived with a specific request to see Gaius and he would await the physician in his chambers.

The bell for the noonday meal had come and gone ages ago, and the day was well advanced. None of them had eaten, worry and the need for answers taking precedence over their stomachs. This interruption seemed like the perfect time for a break. There was nothing left to find on the curse in Geoffrey's precious tome's anyway. They would have to find another source if they were to discover a way to break it.

The guard, a young man who's family were well known to the court physician, was always ready to assist in any capacity and who was a friendly soul besides, felt it prudent to warn the man of the unusual nature of his visitor. "Very exotic looking is that one, didn't seem right comfortable. Seemed to know you and Merlin too, actually looked a bit shocked when he saw him."

Gaius couldn't recall meeting any exotic merchants or of Merlin being friendly with one ah well the puzzle would soon be resolved as to the identity of his guest.

Elyan and Perceval were still with him. They were reluctant to take their meal elsewhere. They were adamant they wanted to stay close to Merlin. They were all feeling helpless after finding so few facts on the nature of the rites, he hadn't the heart to send them away. He was rather glad they had decided to stay so close a moment later when the Guard mentioned the merchant's name. "Very well to do looking gent is Master Garrah….." The young lad trailed off when he noticed his audience had abruptly stopped walking. "_Khil_garrah?"

"Well I don't rightly know what his first name is, suppose it could be, Oh you do know him then It didn't seem like he'd been here before but he really did seem to know you." Happy to have sorted the conundrum in his own head at least he carried on walking, expecting they would all follow on now the riddle had been solved.

It was Elyan who noticed the physicians disquiet, "Are you alright?" The question alerted Percival to the fact something was wrong. The gentle giant of a man came to Gaius' side and offered an arm to lean on once he realised the old man was trembling.

Gaius was not alright. How many men could there be that knew the name Khilgarrah. He wondered who the dragon could have called on to come to their aid. He must have felt something due to the unique bond they shared. He could not help but feel that if Khilgarrah had felt it necessary to send someone to aid them that the situation was more dire than even **he** had guessed. He hoped the man, whoever he was, **could** help them.

"Gaius, are you alright?" He must have been silent too long, the first question not having been answered, was worrying them. He patted Percival's arm as he at last laid their fears to rest.

"I'm sorry. I just haven't heard from him for a good few years. I'm fine truly?"

Elyan and Perceval exchanged glances above the distracted man's head resolving to keep a close eye on him. Too many disturbances to a man of his years could be an enormous strain and right now he was Merlin's only hope. They would never forgive themselves if anything happened to him too.

...

Danis sent the raven as promised late that evening. The fortress set in the far northern reaches was a good few hours distant. He hadn't lied to his Niece she had done well. She just didn't realise exactly who the missive was for, if she did, she may still have joined them, she had cause to. But he liked to keep her out of the picture. Safer that way. There was one thing Danis knew beyond any shadow of a doubt. That he would do **anything** to protect his family.


	14. Chapter 13 The nature of the beast

**A/N Plot twists oh how I love thee!**

…..

Chapter 13 The nature of the beast

There are times in a person's life when they realise exactly what they have and just how much it would hurt to lose it.

Gwaine had always been carefree, not irresponsible per se but more…wise to the ways of the world and hell bent on taking advantage of every drop of excitement and pleasure he could garner from whatever situation he should find himself in. After all you never know which day might be your last.

Becoming a knight hadn't made much impression on this way of thinking and indeed living. It had merely given him a means to earn the money to pay for his pleasures rather than gamble for them. The years of wandering hadn't been much of a choice when he'd had no-where to call home. They had given him a sense of adventure he had craved whilst his soul had been searching for something he knew he lacked.

Who knew he would find it in a bar brawl with a knife to the leg!

Waking up in that diabolically small bed had been one of the weirdest experiences of his life. Not because he had found himself in a strange bed, in a room he had no recollection of entering, but because he had woken alone, in pain and most unusual of all bandaged up in a bed of such small size he knew without doubt he had spent the night without a partner. He had almost certainly experienced each occurrence separately, (one didn't follow the life he did without them happening at least once). There had, however been no immediate recollections of any point they had all happened at the same time.

What followed had been a set of adventures the likes of which he had never experienced, and for a damned **noble **of all things. Not even just a noble either but the crown bloody prince of Camelot!

He had had too many bad experiences of ruthless, idiotic or downright cruel members of the gentry to have formed any opinion of the prince that was not derogatory.

He had swiftly changed his mind. **Merlin **had made him change it. There had been something so sincere in his assessment of the then prince's character that he had felt compelled to take a closer look. What he had seen was a man struggling against fate.

He may have been born to the title of prince, with a father who believed he owned the whole world. Knight's and nobles of the court who fawned constantly, and a passel of giggling servants who would have given their right arm for the honour of serving said royal. All this should have served to send him loopy, spoil him so severely that he was completely hopeless or both. What he actually was, ah well that was another matter entirely. He had fallen in love with a serving girl, had another servant as his best friend, confidant and moral compass and accepted every man no matter how humble his origins for what they were actually worth not what he thought they were. Here was a man he could place his faith and his trust in.

His new life had been brought about by the man now laying so still and silent upon the bed in front of him, and he realised not without a note of surprise, that everything he now was and everything he ever could be was worth nothing without Merlin there to share in the adventure.

…..

Amaethon obviously had some plan in mind when he conspired to send him here, but at this precise moment he had no clue what he was supposed to do. The only other time the dragon had ever seen Merlin so still, were the days after being stung by a Serket.

Lunch had not long since been eaten and the crowding in the chambers was rather ridiculous. Who knew his Lord had so many people who were concerned for his welfare. Eating said lunch had been a surreal sensation. His usual fare of eating part smouldering, part raw haunches of venison on a cliff ledge did not prepare a creature for eating with 'civilised' utensils, nor for perfectly cooked through joints of beef and sides of green things. Eauch. He would stick with what he knew and provide his own dietary requirement from now on. Gaius had covered his lack of experience and his facial contortions with a rather eager tale of his foreign origins and decidedly differing cultural eating habits.

He didn't particularly like the man but credit where it was due, he had managed to excuse him from a rather sticky situation.

To say Gaius had been surprised to see him had been an understatement of the highest order. There was really no surprise that he hadn't recognised him. It would have been more of a shock if he had to be honest. He had had to grab him as soon as he came through the door and try to explain his appearance in Camelot and well…his **appearance**.

There had been nothing in his demeanour, whilst he regaled the man with his unfortunate transformation at the hands of a God, to indicate how disturbed he was by the tale. Khilgarrah had been rather dismayed to realise the man either had nerves of steel, or was now so used to dealing with occurrences' of this nature that he had become immune. He was not used to creatures, let alone humans, so thoroughly surprising him. He didn't like it.

He must say this trip had been littered with firsts, not many that he had enjoyed. First time as a human, first ride on a horse, first meal and conversation with humans who did not know what he was, he could not say it was a pleasure.

The others had been talking amongst themselves quietly whilst they had eaten occasionally glancing towards the bed where the warlock still slept. There had been no mention of the nature of the illness that had struck his lord down, but he could smell the magic from here, this was no ordinary ague. He supposed that they were wary of him as the only stranger to their group. Gaius had not had time to explain. He had barely given the man the reasons for his perfectly timed entrance into the fray before the platters of food had arrived and he had been obliged to join their group.

"Gaius may I have a word." Arthur had been arguing quietly but earnestly with his wife for the last few moments so the sudden question caused many of the knights to jump. He removed himself from the table and pulled the older man gently over to Merlin's bedroom. "I understand your friend is a herb merchant of some note from the story you told me and knows many remedies. Could he possibly help with this. Can he be trusted?" The earnest question caught Gaius off guard but was tempered with relief. He had been trying to think of a way to include the dragon in the conversation without sounding desperate.

"I do believe he may have knowledge we can use. We can trust him with Merlin's safety sire, he has a unique connection to the boy and they are good friends. May I consult with him and compare what we know I'd like to examine my ward. I need to determine if there are side effects to this affliction. I'll let Elyan and Perseval show you what we have found, though it's little enough."

"Of course Gaius. We'll give you some privacy."

"So what is wrong with him? I can sense dark magic at work, but the amount should never have been able to overcome his level of power." Khilgarrah had been patient but now was the time for answers. Even with his voice pitched low, the command within it was still compelling.

"It is the Anginn sylfum. You know of what I speak, your kind helped create it."

"It cannot be! How?" There were few times a dragon could be rendered speechless with shock. Gaius wished this hadn't been one of them.

"Morgana has gained the knowledge of it, and somehow acquired Merlin's blood. I am worried that she may have made the connection between Merlin and Emrys. I pray to all the gods I am wrong." Gaius' hand had been automatically checking his ward as they had been speaking. His pulse was slightly faster than normal though not hugely, his skin a little greyer, his eye sockets more sunken and discoloured, and his breathing just a tad laboured. In addition he was now battling a small fever, not enough to be concerned really, more the sort of elevated temperature you might expect to get with a migraine. Altogether he was slightly worse than this morning but not by a great deal.

"When did the dreams start?"

"Four days ago."

"Four? Well he is Emrys. Where's the mark?"

"His neck, here." He turned his wards head to the side and noted the widened eyes of the dragon.

"It's black? The Anginn symbol should always be red, a symbol of the blood if cast properly, **never** black!"

"So it's not the Anginn?" Hope flared briefly in the old mans chest.

"No it is, the snakes are the Nathair to torture the mind during the punishment, they are the same but, black? There is something here that does not make sense. The spell has been modified, but Morgana does not have the training to do so To attempt to change it would be risking not getting it to work at all."

"So either Morgana changed it and cast hoping to get lucky…."

"Or she has a truly skilled magical helper. Just what is he playing at?"

"Who?"

"Amaethon. He has sent me here knowing I have the information you need. Morgana has somehow acquired a spell that should have been lost long ago, and has been able to restructure it without training when it took three of my brethren and a druid family to construct it before. The prophecies are in turmoil and two of the old religion gods have come out of hiding telling me the road must 'bend'. We are being played my friend but only the gods know why. If it is as I suspect Amaethon and Frige sent Morgana the spell."

"Then what are we to do? How do we break this? Are we supposed to? What did he tell you?" Gaius was understandably panicking.

"That my responses had to be my own."

"And what would your response have been?"

"That we need to tell Arthur about Merlin's magic and have him take him to the crystal cave. To do otherwise is a death sentence!"

"Good gods!"

"No, merely very manipulative ones!"


	15. Chapter 14 To tell a secret

**A/N OMG I now have typers cramp (can't really say it's writers cramp am not really writing). I can not actually believe I finished this I know, I know it was supposed to be tomorrow but hey that means you get to read more today (if your still up hmmm not too sure really why I'M still up) oh damn just realised that means I now have a different chapter to write tomorrow, My poor abused wrist!**

**I don't own Merlin, HE would be typing if I did!**

**...**

Chapter 14 To tell a secret.

"_Merlin has magic!"_

So few words, should not be so hard to say. But the implications of them were infinitely vast. Three words to change the course of the future for a whole world, an entire race.

Why was it so hard?

Without them Merlin would die. He may die anyway once Arthur found out what his servant had been hiding all his life, but there was a chance he could be saved if only he had the courage to divulge a secret so large and no more his to reveal than that Master Garrah was really a dragon. Perhaps that was the problem.

Merlin had wanted to share his magic on so many occasions over the last seven years and Gaius had been the one to shoot such suggestions down every single time. His ward had been asking **when **since he arrived and Gaius had never been able to give him any form of indication except he would know when it came. Such platitudes had never sat well with his adoptive son. He had hated every single instance when he had had to lie and hide himself yet again, instead of being able to come proudly forward and say _'Yes it was me, I did it', _not for the recognition, because Merlin wasn't the type to trot all his accomplishments out time after time just to hear the accolades once again. But Gaius knew how much it hurt that his friends believed him to be a bumbling fool, an idiotic good for nothing kept for the entertainment value and the occasional wise encouragement buried under so much dross.

It was most probably the realisation that it was **not** Merlin who would be sharing it. He was laying in bed unable to tell his story himself, drugged to the eyeballs, and reliant on his friend's protection. A protection that may be withdrawn the moment they understood exactly what he was. The time of the revelation had come and he was going to miss it. Gaius would have to become his defender and cowardly though it may seem he did not feel sure he was up to the task.

Khilgarrah had been eyeing him for the last half hour whilst his internal debate raged and came to the inescapable conclusion that if this secret was to be told at all he would need to give it a rather hefty **push**. He cleared his throat, and then again, they were either ignoring him or they were deaf, he didn't particularly care which.

"I fear we have some rather disturbing news, as regards to Merlin's condition." He had pitched it deliberately loud. That had gained their attention as nothing else could. Every eye was upon him with varying degrees of apprehension. "Shall we?" he gestured regally at the tables and chairs still set up from lunch. "It has been confirmed. The curse is most definitely the Anginn sylfum. To cast it Morgana would have had to have some object stained with his blood, it does not matter how old the blood is, all that is needed is just a drop, which creates a bridge over great distances so the rest of the curse can be directed."

"Oh my, so she could do the same with any one of us?" The prospect was frightening.

"No she cannot. There is something else you need to be told but for now just know that she cannot randomly pick anyone who's blood she managed to collect." There was a small confused sigh of relief wordless looks being exchanged all around the table.

"The curse is designed to siphon a person's energy and direct it inwards creating torturous dreams which would burn the energy off. This energy would be beyond the persons control whilst they were awake. Gaius did the right thing when he put Merlin to sleep. It will slow the process slightly." They were all looking fearfully at the warlock.

"So what will happen to him?"

"Eventually his energy will all burn away. When that happens his body will shut down and he will die." Gwen was distraught, bringing her knuckles to her mouth and whimpering as strangled sobs shook her frame and tears ran freely.

"What can we do? How do we stop this?"

"There is only one cure I know and to take it we need to tell you why Morgana could only curse Merlin out of all of you. Gaius would you?" The old man had visibly aged whilst Master Garrah had been explaining, this was it. After the next few moments none of their lives would be the same again. He looked at each of Merlin's friends faces deep concern etched into every single one and wondered just how many would still care by the end. He nodded reluctantly and took up the tale with a voice full of sorrow.

"Merlin, was born with a secret…"

"How could Merlin be **born **with a secret?" Gaius's eyebrow rose to new heights at the impertinence. The tip of his tongue tingled with the reprimand he was just aching to deliver when Leon beat him to it.

"Gwaine pipe down, let the man speak."

"As I was saying…It was a secret that could get him killed but it now seems that to retain the silence would most certainly see him dead." More than one frown had appeared but there were no more interruptions. "I have to confess that I have kept this from you all for the last seven years, to protect him. He did not deserve to be punished for the way in which he was born. He has wished to tell you all so many, many times and I always cautioned against it, too afraid of what would happen when he did." He had stopped looking at their faces he could not bare to see their reactions when it finally came out.

"He has been so unhappy not being able to share such a huge part of himself, but know that he always sought to protect you. He always told you, Sire, that you didn't know how many times he had saved your life, and you have no clue just how true that is. He has saved you, all of you, all of Camelot more times than I can count, and all at the cost of his own happiness. He has lost so many, and done so much and all for the love he holds for each of you." The tears were streaming down his face and the room had grown so still and silent as if the world had been blanketed in fog waiting for the sun to rise and burn off the vapour heralding a new day.

"Sire, my ward, Merlin, is a Warlock."


	16. Chapter 15 Introspection

**A/N Ok so the reactions of everyone. Hmm this was hard. I have their expressions and their thoughts down perfectly in my head, but getting them down on paper with actual words was excruciating. I'm still not 100% happy but I've been playing around with them since 4 this morning and the page is now blurring in front of me. Elyan and Perceval were probably the hardest. I feel like I know the other characters, the BBC wove their personalities so beautifully, but Elyan and Perceval just weren't given enough air time for me to work them out. Ah well enough said, I hope you enjoy farts and warts and all! **

…

Chapter 15 Introspection

Why did those closest to him feel that parts of themselves had to be hidden away?

That their very beings were not worthy of being shown the daylight like a night blooming flower, only showing it's true beauty in the hours where there was no one to see.

Arthur was unaccountably, terribly hurt. The magic was actually not altogether as… shocking as he had first thought. He remembered his internal debate of several days ago, wondering why his friend (and yes he still was despite having lied to his face for years) had never fit. Why his wise council went hand in hand with his idiocy, where his unaccountably astute logic could never be turned to politics. Why he fought like a lion, just never where he could see, and why he was always so graciously clumsy. He had been an enigma. A walking contradiction, Pandora's box in human form, and that box was now blown wide open. He wished just like those ancient adventurers that he could go back and never have opened it in the first place. But it was open and there was no going back, no haphazardly stuffing the facts back down and hoping they would stick.

There had after all been good reason for his deception. He wondered briefly how much of his soul had been given away each time he had thought it necessary. There were parts of this that were too much like Morgana for comfort. Not his character! Good Gods no, just his seeming unwillingness to give people the benefit of the doubt.

He remembered when Morgana and Helios had been stood in his throne room. He had put his sword away, given Morgana a chance at redemption, reminded her that her arguments for her actions had been based on her perceived notions of their personalities rather than on reality. He distinctly recalled telling her that she of all people could have changed her fathers mind. In the same capacity, Merlin had the power to change his, but just like Morgana the choice had been withheld. And he wondered, if Merlin and Gaius were so scared of giving him that choice, just how badly had he failed his friend? How far had he fallen that Merlin did not realise just how much he really meant to them all? That he could and would defend him till the last breath.

He was here now and it was done and his friend needed him. So he would put a cap on the hurt. Hold it in until he could let it go safely. Somewhere preferably far away from Camelot and with a goodly supply of things to hack away at.

The explanations could come later once he was well again and could tell them what had really been going on all these years.

…..

He knew it, he bloody well knew it!

That skinny, black haired, useless, **lump **of a friend had been holding out on him all this time. Ha! He was dragging that carcass of his down to the rising sun after this and getting him so blindingly drunk he wouldn't be able to sit up on his own for a week, let alone stand. He had known there was a reason he was never there, despite Arthur believing otherwise. No-one passed the opportunity for a drink that many times, unless there was something stopping them.

His grin became wider and wider as he thought of all the great times they could now have. No wonder the adventures were always better with Merlin by his side. He would be having words with that man as soon as he was well again, finding out exactly what he could do and then figuring how to do it better together. He would get well, he had absolutely no doubts of that. There was no individual so well suited to both finding and getting out of trouble than his dear old Merlin.

This would be so much fun!

…..

Just how much had he given up for all of them? And they had never even noticed? Gwen felt so very ashamed. What kind of friend cannot **see** what is right there in front of them for the better part of eight years?

To live in fear for nigh on twenty five years knowing that the only people to grasp who you are, are your mother and Gaius, it would be like being invisible, as if you were constantly on the other side of the window. Looking in to the light and the happiness and the warmth, knowing it is there, whilst being denied the chance to really take part.

She had known her friend was strong in ways most people had never realised, but to constantly use a forbidden, illegal gift to save everyone from harm in a kingdom that would automatically condemn you and keep nothing for yourself. **That** was undeniably the single most selfless and heartbreaking thing she had ever known.

Her dear angelic Warlock, How lonely must he have been, living for so long in such deep shadows. She was so very glad she had met him and could now share his burden.

…

Leon knew duty. Had grown up in a world where his place was a forgone conclusion. He had known as soon as he was old enough to hold a blade that he would be a knight and stand at the sides of kings.

His role had been assured. He would be a protector of the realm, a man of honour and courage. A defender of the weak and helpless. But under Uther there had been times when he had felt that things were not always so clear cut as his monarch would have him believe.

There had been many nights when he had sat by the fire in his chamber, drinking steadily wondering if perhaps there was more to the story of this war on sorcery than they had been told. He was an intelligent man and the facts had never added up.

He had been very close to both his parents and found it disturbing that they would clam up so spectacularly as soon as the word magic came into the picture, most especially when his youngest cousin was mentioned. A cousin full of life, laughter and love who had mysteriously died at the start of the purge. He did not know if he was reading too much into that but the strangeness of it when his parents had always been so open before, was telling.

And then there were the druids. Uther had killed so many, had eradicated whole clans, drowned their children. He firmly believed that had been so wrong. If magic was so evil, how could a child have it? They had never retaliated to his knowledge. Surely if there were large groups of people with magic who were inherently evil, they would have marched on Camelot a long time ago. The city could have been razed to the ground within the first weeks of the purge if such was the case.

He had never blindly believed the lies, for lies they were. And if he could shamefully serve a king, who found it prudent to lie to an entire kingdom to commit genocide. Then to condemn one skinny peasant with a will to survive was hypocritical and beneath the honour he so cherished.

The druids who found him and saved his life even as a knight of Camelot, deserved his respect and Merlin even more so.

…..

Before Perceval had ever met Lancelot his life had been full of placid farming, pretty girls at the seasonal festivals and looking after his family. He had never wanted anything more. The day Cenred had ripped through with his hoards of immortal deranged soldiers had been the day he lost everything. Only he and a handful of others who had been to market in the next town had been spared.

They had set out that morning waving cheery goodbyes, promising ribbon for his sisters good behaviour, and came back to devastation. The whole village was a smouldering ruin, the people cut down where they stood. Just six left and those mostly women from a thriving community of dozens, all they could do was stand and stare in shock and grief.

They had not seen Lancelot until the late afternoon sun had been touching the horizon.

He had been at the other end of the village, chainmail and weaponry stacked neatly by the barns, shirtsleeves rolled up as he methodically stacked wood for the funeral pyres.

Perceval hadn't asked his name, just walked up and started the grim task of collecting the dead, laying them in neat rows, straightening their limbs and hauling water for the women to wash their loved ones.

The pyres had burned all night and come morning they had collected what little they could in the way of provisions and left the ruin behind.

The others had stayed at the next town, seeking help and solace, but Lancelot had asked him if he wanted to come, to seek some measure of reparation. He had had a letter from a friend he said needing allies in the fight against the evil Cenred had done. Perceval hadn't needed to be asked twice. They had walked, and as they had Lancelot had started talking.

He had woven a tale of a young man, who had gained his admiration, who always tried to do what was right not what was easy. A young man who would give everything to keep those he cared for safe. A man who had taught him that true nobility was not defined by fortune of birth but by respect, generosity and kindness.

He had known as soon as he met Merlin that this was the man, and yes he could see why Lancelot had admired him so. He could see clearly that Lancelot had known, all the little details missing from the larger picture. And Perceval couldn't help but hold him in an even higher regard.

They had both of them given him back his purpose. He had become a knight, and been granted another type of family, and most of all he had a way of ensuring he could now help those in need, so they would never have to suffer as he had.

…..

Merlin had always intrigued Elyan. A man who would risk so much just to rescue the brother of a friend had to be worth a closer look. He knew why Arthur had come anyone with eyes could see which way the wind blew with those two, but Merlin had tagged along like a lost puppy, completely devoted to both Arthur and Gwen.

It was only when the immortal army had swept through the lower town and they had found him hiding in his house that Elyan began to realise that Arthur listened to him just as much as he listened to Arthur. Oh there had been instances over the years where Arthur had taken his advice, cocked his head to one side and done the complete opposite, usually when Arthur trusted the wrong people, forgetting for a moment that Merlin usually knew what he was doing.

And Merlin **did **know what he was doing, he usually knew what the trouble was before anyone else even knew there was trouble to begin with. Merlin could take charge when he felt it was needed even if his sword skills were abysmal. The way he did it was so subtle it left you feeling like you were the best strategist in the world, because once the crisis was past he would once again fade into the background. Elyan had always thought that Arthur had made him some kind of unofficial spy and that is why he had never been promoted. That his permanent servant status even as all around him were recognised was because being a servant was the most informative position to be in. He now realised this was **exactly **what Merlin had been doing, but Arthur hadn't known. Which either made him a brave fool, or an exceptional strategist. Elyan was betting on the latter, especially in light of the recent revelation.

To consistently deny who you were to remain in a lowly position, just because said position was the best place to protect your friends without detection was decidedly clever. Elyan was looking forward to the conversations they would have from now on.

…

Gaius could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times he had been flabbergasted to such a degree. He had expected threats, shouting, accusations, recriminations and tears. He had even thought that weapons may have been drawn and he had been fully prepared to throw himself across the prone form of his ward to protect him from a full out assault.

What he got, was Arthur's hands gripping into fists, the tightening of several jaws, silent tears from Gwen and a more than manic grin from Gwaine. The other knights bore expressions of awe to varying degrees. But what threw the old man completely was the complete lack of hate or fear. Now he really wished Merlin could have been awake enough to see it.


	17. Chapter 16 Why a cave of crystals

**A/N This was a doozy of a chapter to write. I have written it SIX times now and hated every one of them. Finally got fed up went for a walk, came back feeling much better and wrote it straight off. I am doing that again when I get stuck!**

**If I owned Merlin I would never have to clean my house again, Merlin could wave his arms instead, since I don't my house is a bombsite.**

…

Chapter 16 Why a cave of crystals

The silence had been getting oppressive.

Gaius and Khilgarrah were now tending to Merlin's worsening fever, the effects of the curse progressing slowly but surely towards its conclusion. They had left the others to themselves for a time. Instinctively knowing they needed time to process what they had heard.

Arthur had been pacing. It was a habit he had developed as a restless youngster, he had always been more a doer than a thinker. Not that he was unintelligent but as a warrior trained practically from the cradle, it had never been easy to get him to sit and study. There had been too much pent up energy, so he and Geoffrey as his tutors had made him debate whilst walking, it focused his mind and allowed them to actually make the lessons stick.

The pacing gradually stopped and he came to sit back down next to his wife taking her hand and kissing it with a small smile. "Are you alright Arthur?"

"I'll be fine." He placed her hands back on the table and gave them a gentle pat turning to Gaius as he did so. "You told us that Merlin was a warlock. What exactly does that mean? I believe we have all guessed that he has magic, but I didn't know there were different types, nor that someone could be born with it."

"You have never been taught sire about magic. There is so much that has been kept from you all. Your father destroyed every bit of magical instruction he could lay his hands on."

Arthur held up his hand and made a fist, the fine leather straining across his knuckles, his face turned slightly and shaking in denial, "We will not discuss my father, or his reasons. Right now we need to help Merlin. We will focus on that until we have time for more."

"I am sorry sire. Of course you are right. The sorcerers you have seen are the typical kind of human magic user. They have the gift but it does not manifest until they are teenagers. The onset of puberty is the usual turning point since their body goes through so many hormonal changes we believe this brings it to the fore."

"So they do not choose to have it?" Arthur filed the use of the words 'human magic user' away for future reference, now was not the time for lengthy discussions.

"Ah no. You are either born with the ability or not. However sorcerers must develop it with years of study before it can be of any use. A little like your sword training sire, they must build their skill and stamina over a long period. They draw the energy they use from the earth and it takes a great deal of mental strength to become powerful. Some cannot and some will not take the time to practice. If the gift is not utilised it will eventually fizzle out."

"But Merlin is a Warlock not a sorcerer?"

"Yes sire. They are very rare. A Warlock or Witch can use magic from a very early age usually around five or six. They must develop control, because the power comes from within. **They** have no choice in what they are. It is instinctive like a reflex…" Gaius searched for a term that would explain it better. "...like flinching when something is thrown at you. If they do not learn control their power spills over and can harm those around them without meaning to. They are usually much more powerful than sorcerers."

"So Merlin is powerful." It seemed an alien concept to think of their friend in such terms. His slight frame and usually guileless mannerisms, did not lend themselves to the impression of great power.

"Merlin is rarer still. He does not just have magic in essence he **is **magic. He was born of and with magic. He is magic in in human form. That is why this curse will kill him. Merlin needs magic like you need breath. It runs like blood through his veins. Without it he will perish." Khilgarrah's voice cut in from where he was wiping the sweat from Merlin's brow. It was a rather startling statement. All the more so because it was said in such a matter of fact manner. He never even looked away from his patient, it was if he was commenting on the weather. Arthurs mouth worked open and closed for a moment before his face hardened slightly.

"You knew about this? How? Just who are you to Merlin?" A thread of suspicion and threat ran through the questions.

"Yes I knew. I knew from the moment Emrys was born just what he was and what he would be and I was sent here to help."

"Emrys? **Merlin **is **Emrys**?" Perceval's jaw had dropped and he seemed on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Wait who's Emrys?" Gwen could not keep her confusion hidden any longer. "I've heard that name before somewhere. i'm sure I have." She furrowed her brow deep in thought.

"You know something of this? Am I the only one who didn't know?" Arthur had risen again in agitation but Perceval was shaking his head, which appeared to appease Arthur's mood somewhat. Perceval looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

"There was a man who came through our village when I was a young lad, we all knew he was a druid but we were told never to ask or speak of it, if we did not know for sure we believed we could not be punished for it. He had been wounded I can't recall how but it was one of those that took a long time to heal properly. We treated his injury and he helped us and told stories as payment for our care. They were innocuous for the most part but I was a curious boy and kept goading him at night to tell more and more tales. He eventually told me of Emry's and the once and future king, such stories sire, I'd never heard their like before." Arthurs head had snapped up at the mention of the once and future king, Merlin had called him that before.

"What did he tell you? What stories?" Had his life been bandied about the countryside like so much gossip? Perceval didn't notice the almost desperate tone or the harsh look. He was too busy studying the Warlock.

"He told me that they had been waiting for him for hundreds of years. That there were prophesies about him and the king, of how Emrys was supposed to be his protector. That they would unite the land together and bring such peace and prosperity as had never been seen before, and that Emrys would be the most powerful Magic user of all time." They were speechless literally and utterly speechless. It **had** to be Gwaine of course that broke the bubble.

"Well princess looks like you've got a lot to live up to!" The hearty comment and slap to the table made them all jump, but it did snap them out of their stupor.

"If Merlin is Emrys…which one did Morgana think she was cursing?" Leon's question caught them unawares. It was a good point.

"We don't know. We hope that she thinks she has cursed Emrys. He has stood against her in the past but she never knew Merlin is Emrys"

"And if she now knows?"

"Then she will hate him even more. She has reason to hate both individually, but we pray she has not made the connection between them."

"What would happen if she did?"

"She knows Emrys is Camelot's protector, but Merlin has ruined a lot of her plans over the years. If one were to be struck down she may still think twice about coming up against us but if she realises…"

"…there would be nothing to stand in her way!" The flawlessness of the plan to keep the two identities separate struck Elyan rather forcefully as he stared at the sleeping boy. It was…brilliant. He just hoped it had not been compromised. They needed Merlin to get well again. Morgana was not one to sit around, and this would be the perfect opportunity to retaliate. He glanced around at his companions and realised they had all come to the same conclusion.

Arthur was in a daze. Nothing in his life previous, had prepared him for the secrets being flung out with such abandon. His mind was in a haze, a thick blanket of fog that slowed his thoughts till they were moving at a snails pace. He did, however, manage to ask the one question that still **needed **to be asked.

"So just how are we help him?"

Khilgarrah put down the cloth and stood, looking solemnly out across the other seven occupants of the room. "He must be taken to the place where magic began, the well of the old religion. It is the only place where his magic can be replenished and his blood purified of the witches taint."

"And just where is this place?" Gwen's voice was gentle, encouraging.

"You have been very close to it before. It is in the valley of the fallen kings. A cave, full of crystals. I will show you where it is, I doubt you would be able to find it on your own. It is a sacred place and very well hidden." Arthur gave him a look, obviously trying to work something out.

"I take it since you know so much that you also have magic?" His hand had gone to his sword hilt and had been twisting it reflexively in his grasp.

"Not at this time no." The comment was confusing but Arthur let it slide. More to figure later! This day just kept getting better and better. He stared at the other man for a good long while but Khilgarrah just gazed back steadily until Arthur finally had to turn away.

The orders for their departure were swift and to the point. Gwen had argued for them all to go but with Morgana on the loose somewhere, possibly planning an attack, someone would have to stay and prepare the citadel for siege. Leon and Elyan would also be left behind. To take them all would be to leave them without the strong leadership they needed at such a time. Arthur trusted Leon's judgement implicitly, and Gwen would need someone close to her by her side. Her brother was the perfect choice. Gaius had also reluctantly agreed to stay, the infirmary needed to be set up, and preparations only he could make. He had seen the necessity, and Merlin would be in good hands with Khilgarrah accompanying them, but he didn't like it.

They would ride in the morning, it was half a day to the valley, if they didn't run across any trouble, and the light was already fading.


	18. Chapter 17 Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy!

**A/n We haven't heard from her for a while so I thought you might like to know what she's up to. Hint… its not nice!**

…..

Chapter 17 Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy!

The message came with the dawn.

A sleek black shape darting over the high, curtain walls alerted the sentry on duty and he passed the word down that a raven had been spotted.

Morgana's first thought, upon receiving word that her raven had returned early, was that her little spies had been found out. This was something that would put a serious dampener in her plans. Her army was growing at a considerable rate, but they were still at least a week away from launching their attack. Morgana needed to make sure that Emrys was out of the picture. According to the book, even the most powerful of sorcerers succumbed to the dreams within three days, and four days later their magic would be gone. It would have taken seven days, just one week, to subdue her enemy entirely. She wanted to be completely certain of the outcome, she could not afford another incident like Arthur's throne room where Emrys had managed somehow, to make her magic fail her.

The aviary was a quiet space filled with the gentle coos and fluttering of a dozen preening birds. Morgana's little darlings. Her pride and joy, treated more as treasured pets than trained messengers.

Morgana stuck her hand in the large cage and clicked softly. The bird that brought the message hopped off his perch and flew down to alight on her fingers. She caressed his feathers in a soothing gesture and placing him on the back of the chair, gently removed the message tube.

'_Rumours at the castle indicate Merlin has been struck down. The servants believe Magic is involved though this has not been confirmed. The royals and knights haven't been seen since.'_

Morgana's eyes widened to an incredible size her jade green irises becoming hard as steel, "What? How?" It could not be. It had to be some other sorcerer flinging magic around and hitting the servant. Goodness knows they had plenty of people who despised them as much as she did. The only other possibility was just too terrible to contemplate. There was just no way that meddling serving boy had become the focus of HER spell.

The carefully crafted message was crushed in one delicate hand as icy fingers of fury worked their way down Morgana's rigid spine. How dare he! All the preconceived notions of Merlin's gullibility and weakness had been shattered with one tightly rolled slip of paper tied to a raven's leg.

No! Emrys was an old man it could **not** be him. This fact served to calm her slightly and she smoothed the ribbon of crushed parchment to re-read the missive, trying to squeeze as much information out of the three tiny lines as possible. Hmm she tapped the paper to her lips, a faraway look to her features as she thought.

Brow puckering and nervous energy manifesting as a stuttering walk around the chamber, she tried to reason out the details. If Arthur had holed himself up with the knights and her maidservant (she flatly refused to think of that usurper as Queen), then the boy may be worse than she thought. _'The timing is a little to convenient don't you think?'_ Yes it was. "Arrrgggghhh!" She flung her hand to the side and eyes burning gold blew a small chair to firewood. She really **hated **not knowing all the facts.

Then a sudden thought struck her and she laughed a bit maniacally. So what if Merlin was Emrys. That boy deserved to suffer just as much as the old man. And with the spell she had sent he would most certainly suffer. Even if he wasn't and this was yet another magic user out for revenge it handled the problem of the boy admirably, no matter how conspicuously convenient the timing.

If Merlin had been the one to counter her magic all those times it had inexplicably failed her, then it would be the perfect revenge to take the citadel when he was now defenceless and vulnerable. Let him watch helplessly as she struck at his very heart. She would keep him until last and make him observe the executions of all those he loved. The pyre she thought would be poetic justice. To think she ever feared him, he was pathetic. A traitor to his own kind, who would betray you, lie to you and stab you in the back, _**poison**_ you even as they called you friend to your face.

There was no-one left to confront her. This time she would have her victory.

…..

It was perhaps inevitable that Arthur would be more cautious when it came to dealing with traitors and spies. There had been too many over the years who had been willing to sell their honour, sometimes for coin and sometimes just because it would hurt.

Now with the threat of Morgana looming large once again, and Merlin recently outed to the select few he trusted implicitly. He had been struck anew by the need to keep their journey as much of a secret as he could, even without the prompting from Master Garrah. It would have been relatively easy for Morgana to slip a mole or two within the castle. Even if there were none, it would be a good idea to keep their plans between themselves for now. Who knew how long before Morgana would strike? The populous needed to be kept calm and the best way to do that was to simply not tell them.

As for Master Garrah himself? Arthur found that he could not in all good conscience trust the merchant. There was something regrettably truculent about him which prevented the king from placing any faith in his reliability. He just couldn't put his finger on what rubbed him so raw. He had been perfectly civil, in a cold, detached kind of way that was just a tad off-putting. Even whilst he showed nothing but genuine care and concern towards the Warlock. Maybe Merlin's 'funny feelings' were not so superstitious after all.

The plan had been simple. Merlin had been smuggled out using the siege tunnels well before dawn, wrapped in a cloak and carried by Perceval. A rumour had been circulated that he had hit his head on the wall when he had collapsed and was suffering from hallucinations brought on by a severe concussion. Hence he was now confined to his quarters to rest and recuperate. Arthur and Gwaine had then ridden out with Master Garrah and a spare horse and met them. Hopefully it would look like Arthur was selling one of his personal mounts to the merchant and was taking it out so he could put it through its paces. It wouldn't buy them much time but possibly just enough to get to the valley and back again.

Merlin was currently slung across the front of Arthur's horse. He didn't like to trust him with anyone else. Gwaine and Perceval were right behind and that supposed merchant was bringing up the rear, riding like a sack of potatoes, and of course **that** wasn't suspicious at all. Whatever the man was he was no merchant. Whoever heard of a travelling merchant who could not ride well? There would be answers when they returned he could be sure of that.


	19. Chapter 18 Curing the incurable

**A/N just hope this works and isn't too confusing. If it is please review and let me know.**

**Thank you everyone for your marvellous comments. To my anonymous guests and meri ley. Thank you. I'm so sorry I couldn't reply directly, know that your views are greatly appreciated.**

…**..**

Chapter 18 Curing the incurable

"Hello? Is anybody there? Arthur? Gwen? Anyone?" The sunlight streamed through the windows of the great hall, lighting the walls to a deep burnished gold. The thrones sitting in a stray shaft and the banners waving gently in the breeze from an open window.

It was warm, comfortable, familiar, but it was also empty.

He had been wandering for hours now with no sign of even a single living creature. Everything was just as it should be, meals laid out, fires burning cheerily, weapons stacked neatly in their racks. It was almost as if everyone had just popped out for a second and would be returning any moment. But the gates of the citadel were shut and no amount of force would open them.

He had even tried magic, out in the open like he had never done before but then why shouldn't he? There was no-one left to see!

…..

"Tell me something Master Garrah. Why do you care for Merlin so much? I've never seen you around, and Merlin has never mentioned you before. Yet you seem entirely familiar with him." Arthurs question came out of the blue, angling across the clearing like a whiplash.

They had all stopped for a break. Merlin's midriff would be sore despite being cushioned by several folded blankets. Master Garrah had slid off his horse and almost had his legs buckle underneath him. It just confirmed what Arthur had suspected in Camelot. This man had never ridden any real distance before. Even Merlin could withstand better distances than this man.

"And you can also tell me just exactly who you are, since you are most assuredly no Merchant!"

"Indeed. Merlin always did maintain he was the brighter half of the coin, but I see now that he was perhaps mistaken." The dragon was more than a touch diverted by Arthurs aggrieved tone.

"You admit it then?"

"Oh most categorically." Arthur was rather taken aback that he would agree with his assessment so readily. "Though I don't think you would believe me if told you what I really am Nor how I came to be here. As for how I know the young Warlock, well, I called to him when he first arrived in the city and he came to me. I care because he is the last of his kind as I was the last of mine, we are kin of a sort, our souls are brothers." Well Arthur thought, that explanation actually helped not at all and just opened the door to more questions. "You may call me Khilgarrah since that is my name." And with that the dragon walked painfully away leaving a gaping fish of a king behind. "You know you have a real way with people princess." Arthur had never mastered Gaius's artistry with that single eyebrow, but he could glare with the best of them and he turned the full force on the grinning Gwaine. Perceval of course couldn't help but snort.

…..

The valley of the fallen kings lay in perfect stillness. No birds added their throaty chorus to the day. No leaves rustling or animals stirring. The only noises were the jangling harness and metallic clinking of the knights and their horses. They had all fallen silent as the enormous carved sentries came into view, an unspoken warning whispering across their senses.

They were all on edge. This valley had caused them no end of trouble in the past. Bandits roamed these woods freely, defying all their attempts to flush them out. Right now they were vulnerable. Just three knights, one weaponless man, and an unconscious warlock. The least amount of attention they could bring to themselves the better. Merlin had been transferred to Khilgarrah's mount and was now sat in front of the former dragon. If it came to a fight the three knights needed to be unencumbered, and if they needed to flee it made it easier for Merlin to be Moved around.

It was still not ideal, but it reassured them that they were as prepared as they could be if they encountered difficulties. Perhaps their luck was finally with them or more likely in Khilgarrah's opinion, the gods were directing the speculation elsewhere, because the entrance to the cave system was soon looming over them.

Khilgarrah had never been here on the ground. He had flown over it on numerous occasions and he had felt the magic permeating the place. This however was a unique perspective and for the only time in the last few days, found himself glad he was human. He would be the only Dragon to ever set foot in the birthplace of human magic. From a purely academic point of view it was a priceless experience.

…..

Arthur thought he had been doing well until this point. His raging internal conflict and wildly see-sawing emotions carefully concealed behind his usual stoic expression. Now, here, in front of a blatant site of magical activity, his will was deserting him. He thought somewhat hysterically about what his father would have said about Arthur walking willingly into such a location, and that sobered him completely. His father would have without a doubt, ultimately destroyed it and patted himself on the back for erasing just one more threat. Except it wasn't a threat, was it? From what Khilgarrah had said, this place had been here for thousands of years. If it had been evil that long, someone would have realised and taken steps to remove it before now.

Perceval had Merlin securely in his arms once again as he strode through the vertical slit of an entrance, and Arthur was rather forcefully reminded of the time just after Merlin literally threw himself at a Dorocha to save his king. It was rather humbling to think of what lengths Merlin would go to in order to protect his friends. He wondered not for the first time just how much the young man had done for him, and how many of his supposed victories should have been laid at this mans feet rather than his own.

…..

The light of day had faded now and had candles had lit themselves in preparation for the evening. The hall had somehow decorated itself, as if in preparation for a feast. But however welcoming the room looked it was still so terribly lonely. This wasn't the castle, not the real one anyway. He didn't know precisely where he was but it wasn't Camelot.

Camelot didn't exist without the people to populate it. He had been to Gaius's rooms earlier, trying to figure out how to get out of here, but all the books were as empty as the castle corridors.

He sat now at the right hand of the throne at the head table eyeing the food with distaste, once more trying to work out what he needed to do in order to leave.

…..

The light from their torch reflected back from the crystal studded walls and they just stood there gaping, this they had not imagined. It was alien and strangely very beautiful.

Perceval carried the limp form of the young warlock through the last archway into the heart of the crystal cave and gently lowered him onto the blankets laid ready by Gwaine and Arthur. If anything the deeply unconscious boy was looking even worse and the awe they all felt was tempered by the knowledge of Merlins condition.

Arthur shot a worried glance at Gwaine and Perceval trying to gauge their reaction to his deterioration.

"Arthur, he will be fine. We just have to have faith. Gaius cares too much for him, he would not lie. If this is the only way to lift the curse then we have to believe it **will** work." The prince drew his hands through his hair in an age old gesture of frustration. "All this," Gesturing at both Merlin and the cave," It's a little hard to take in. So much I don't know, don't understand! He has a **lot** of explaining to do when he wakes up."

"We know. But the explanations must come from Merlin in his own time. It can't have been easy growing up with what he can do, knowing your very existence was considered wrong. To then wake up and find your deepest secret not only known but accepted by everyone will be overwhelming I think. Perhaps we should…." Whatever Perceval was going to say was cut off as Merlin's thrashing intensified once again signalling his return to full consciousness and the curse's influence. All the3 knights scrambled back as the golden glow of Merlin's escaping magic resumed around his body, reflected tenfold in the crystals around them and everyone took another involuntary step back.

A low keening hum started reverberating round the cavern, gaining in intensity as the glow grew and as Merlin's eyes shot open blazing with internal fire a wave of pure light shot from the figure and rebounded from the many faceted crystals until the light was blinding. All three of the knights reacted by ducking and trying to stay out of the path of the light, Khilgarrah of course just stood and let it wash over him. Though it did no good to try to avoid it they also found they did not need to fear it. The light merely passed though them and left a warmth and energy in it's wake that felt not unlike the embrace of a dear friend. This was what it felt like to be hugged by Merlin.

…..

The walls had started to vibrate, and fine cracks appeared in the stonework, chips of it breaking from the ceiling and raining down upon his head. He ran from the room though where he thought he could go was a mystery. He was trapped here as surely as a fly in amber.

…..

The knights and even Khilgarrah had pressed themselves against the entrance. It was the only part of the cave that was not covered with the now sparkling crystals, and though they did not feel as if they were in danger, felt safer in fact than at any other point in their lives. They did not wish to disrupt what was happening.

Merlin's body had lifted from the floor and was now laying horizontally in the air, pinpoints of energy running around and through him. The crystals absorbed the light that hit them enlarging it and shooting it back out, to resume its bizarre dance around the warlock. It was rather spectacular.

Arthur had been extremely privileged as a child to witness a round of fireworks brought by a wealthy merchant from the east. His father had paid an exorbitant amount of money for the birthday treat. They had been like nothing he had ever seen before, but even they paled in comparison to what was happening right now.

…..

The cracks were getting larger and chasing him down the corridors, light streaming from the gaping holes.

He sprinted without direction just trying to stay one step ahead. Trying not to think about what would happen when he ran out of places to escape.

…..

The points had coalesced into the centre of the room where the warlock was still suspended, moving faster and faster, weaving a cocoon of light a few inches from his skin.

…..

This was it, no more road.

He had turned the final corner and ended up at the gate. The stone breaking all around him and the light solidifying. His hands came over his head to protect him from the falling masonry as the light became a spear, aimed directly for his heart.

It flew towards him with terrifying precision.

…..

The light continued to weave though it was now slowing, and continued to slow till finally it moved no more, Leaving a tight net of glowing strands fully encasing him, looking for all the world like he was wrapped in a blanket made of sunbeams.

The net started to tighten absorbing into the young man's skin and as it did so he threw back his head and screamed the space over his heart flaring briefly. It was agonising but short lived, and as the last decibels faded. He dropped back to the floor of the cave.

Time seemed to be suspended. The absence of sound deafening. Arthur looked round at his companions with awe and disbelief and as one they ran towards the fallen Warlock.


	20. Chapter 19 Whilst you were sleeping

Chapter 19 Whilst you were sleeping.

Confusion, and a deep, all over body ache were the fist sensations to assault Merlin once he managed to pry his sticky eyelids partway open. He quickly shut them again as what little light had penetrated under the half closed lids sent stabbing waves of agony shooting through his skull.

It was not the most welcome wake up call, in fact Merlin probably could have forgone the dubious pleasure of waking up at all if this was how he was going to feel for any length of time.

He groaned softly at the nausea roiling through his stomach and wondered if perhaps Gwaine had managed to finally drag him to the tavern last night after all. He briefly toyed with the idea since no other suitable explanations were presenting themselves to his poor abused brain at the moment and decided he would **never** allow himself to be sidetracked by Gwaine's entertainment choice again if such was the case.

He could feel he was laying on something hard and uneven, which meant he hadn't made it back to his chamber. It was also quiet except for a few hushed voices. No 'out door' noises he would have expected if he had merely passed out in the courtyard en route to Gaius' tower. Ye gads! How much had he drunk if he couldn't even remember where he was? Now seriously trying to recall the last place he had been, he lay still and just willed himself to remember. This sent more agony through his head and he couldn't stop the whimper from escaping. The voices, which to this point had been an almost constant background hum, ceased abruptly and he heard the soft slap of soft boots on stone as someone approached.

"Merlin?" He moaned again, unable at this point to articulate actual words. Trying once again to open his eyes, he was only partially successful, but could at least make out a vaguely humanoid blur. "Arthur, he's awake. How are you feeling mate?"

Gwaine then. Nobody else ever called him mate, it was a uniquely Gwainish mannerism. He still couldn't speak and trying to lift his head proved an abysmal failure. He must have shown that he wanted to raise it though, or Gwaine just had a sixth sense for his needs, as his head was suddenly lifted onto his friend's arm and a water skin placed to his lips. The water was blessedly cool and soothed a path all the way down to his stomach, settling a little of the nausea, and allowing him to gain enough energy to open his eyes fully.

There were more people now. Arthur, Perceval and another man he didn't know but seemed strangely familiar, came into view. Arthur didn't seem angry. In fact if Merlin didn't know better he would almost say it was concern. Had he been ill, hit his head? If so why wasn't he on the cot in the physicians rooms? His confusion just got deeper and deeper. He couldn't see past Gwaine's face, his focus simply not there.

Gods he felt awful. He opened his mouth again to try and speak, managed a croak, coughed and tried again. "Did I get run over by a horse?"

"You don't remember then?" The twinkle in Gwaine's eye couldn't be good

"Oh no. Please tell me it wasn't the tavern, I know what your like!" His voice still sounded extremely weak but his usual sense of humour was returning and a grin stole across his face.

"For once Merlin it wasn't the tavern, though I think we really need to sit down and talk about those trips when we get back." Merlin just looked at him blankly. That had sounded distinctly ominous. Merlin couldn't think why. It had only been a joke.

"Mate we need to get you out of here. Get back to Camelot. Do you reckon you can walk with a bit of help?" Gwaine indicated Perceval who just gave him a soft smile.

"Don't know. Maybe." Ever stubborn he rolled over and tried valiantly to get to his feet. He couldn't even get to his knees. The movement triggered the sick feeling in his stomach and the room span dizzily as he dry heaved. He rested his head back down noticing as he did so that it was rough stone covered in a light layer of sandy soil. Cave then? "Sorry. Don't think the walking is going to happen anytime soon." All his energy just seemed to have vanished and his body now felt numb, like his limb's didn't really belong to him. His eyesight still wasn't responding properly either and the brief effort of rolling over and trying to get up had tired him to the point he just wanted to go back to sleep.

"What happened to me?" It was barely a whisper. He probably would have been panicking now if it hadn't been too much of a struggle. He heard his companion's voices becoming indistinct and far away, as if heard through water, uttering reassurances. That it was fine, he'd been through quite an ordeal but he was alright now. They would get him back home to Gaius. He nodded, or at least tried to, he wasn't entirely sure if he managed it. His eyelids became too heavy to hold open any longer and he barely felt Perceval pick him up from the floor before he fell back into blackness.

…..

'_This was becoming something of a habit!' _Gwen thought as she consulted with Leon, Elyan and Gaius on preparations for defence of the citadel. She could think of no other kingdom where so many battles had happened in so short a time. The only upside that Gwen could see was that they now kept so many arrangements already in place. It made keeping it a secret and preparing quickly so much easier.

"Leon how many of the knights can we trust enough to bring in on this."

"How many do you need? They will all follow your lead my lady."

"As many as you can manage. We have to rely on their being completely circumspect so I need you to be absolutely sure of them. I refuse to allow Morgana another shot at harming innocent people because we couldn't keep a lid on rumour and gossip." Leon's brow furrowed in thought.

"Sir's Bedivere. Breon, Norris And Chandry I would trust with my life. Sir Tomas definitely hates Morgana enough to never breathe a word if you explain it properly as does Sir Mostyn and Sir Acton. The others are devoted and loyal but I'm not entirely sure of their discretion."

"Those seven then and we four should be enough for now until Arthur returns. Elyan I need you and one other to make a weapons inventory. Leon you know more of these situations from the soldiers point of view than I do what else do we need?"

"We'll need to check the progress of the walls. The repairs were well under way from the last assault but I need to make sure the ones still being rebuilt are strong enough. Provisions need to be set aside for the defenders the rest stockpiled for the citizens. Recruitment of the commoners could come later once the king returns. Extra drill time for the soldiers may not be possible without alerting anyone, I'll have to give that some thought. The siege tunnels will need to either be barricaded or guarded somehow. Some have already been barred or changed, but Morgana knows them too well now and there were too many to close off this quickly."

"See if you and Elyan can have a discreet word with each of the knights and work out what each of them can take command of. You will be our overseer and co-ordinate the effort on the soldiers and defences. Keep me posted. As to the provisions, leave that to me. Will we have time to evacuate any of the people I wonder? Gaius I know you normally have Merlin to help with the infirmary but I wondered if you know the head cooks niece Bette? Her husband was killed in the last battle and I know she is very good with basic medicine. Would you take her under your instruction?"

"I will my lady and if we do not have time to get the townsfolk out of the city, have you thought about the cave systems. there is a lot of room down there and it is near the citadel's water supply." Gaius knew this could not be easy for the Queen. To suddenly go from serving girl, to royalty, to defender of an entire city within three months, would have been a strain on anyone, but the young woman was handling herself beautifully. She made a truly admirable, wise, and compassionate Queen.

"Good. Gaius could you show Elyan the caves this afternoon we shall see what we can do. That is it for now I think. Anything else will just have to wait until Arthur and Merlin get back." She was looking somewhat wistfully out of the window as she spoke. Worry for her loved ones overlaying her determination. She needed them safe.

The knights had left by the time she drew her gaze back from the window enough to register that Gaius was the only person now with her.

"He will be fine. They all will. They have been in other situations just as bad and survived perfectly well. Try not to worry too much." Gwen was only partially reassured. She could not help but be apprehensive. This may not be the first time they had gone on a quest that would put them in harms way, but this **was **the first time Merlin wasn't able to look after them. Gwen had never realised just how much she relied on the servant to bring Arthur home, until it was Arthur's turn to look after Merlin. She knew she would probably never overlook this fact again.


	21. Chapter 20 Best laid plans

**A/N Merlin was supposed to wake up in this one but he refused. Poor boy's a bit tired and the chapter would have been too long so next one's the charm.**

** M.**

…

Chapter 20 Best laid plans.

Merlin hadn't stirred once since the cave. All the way back across Camelot he lay dead to the world. They had all been worried at the loss of consciousness so soon after waking, but Khilgarrah had reassured them. Saying the Warlock was merely completely exhausted from the effects of the curse coupled with his magic being forcibly returned and his newly strengthened power, (and wasn't that an odd occurrence, Arthur having to be comforted that a magical being would be alright). His body needed time and rest to adjust, so it could settle properly. Arthur was now utterly convinced Khilgarrah had magic no matter he had argued so forcefully that he didn't. He just knew too damned much!

Either way Arthur had had to keep checking Merlin's pulse and breathing every few miles just to be certain. He had laid so still the only movement caused by his steady breaths and the rocking of his mare. There had been no murmur even when Perceval had gotten him down from the horse and laid him in the entrance to the siege tunnels to rest on piles of blankets, yet again waiting for the cover of darkness to smuggle him the reverse journey back to the physician. It had been tedious having to leave Merlin in the knight's care and take their mounts round and through the lower town, but secrecy was everything. They simply **could** not let Morgana have the slightest inkling that they were on to her. Or expose Merlin any further.

Arthur had caught up with all the activity in the citadel to try and keep his mind from his skinny friend. It hadn't worked all that well, even as he marvelled at the plans Gwen and his faithful band had wrought in his absence. Gwen had only surprised him by the merest amount. He **knew** just how resilient, determined, and resourceful she could be and could only stand in awe of the fact that despite everything she had still chosen to stand by his side. He had met with the seven other knights given trust of the situation and couldn't fault Leon's judgement. Their plans were well under way and they would be as ready as they could when she finally hit.

The one thing Arthur was concerned about was just how much time it would be before she descended. For that he needed to talk to both Gaius, and he really couldn't believe he needed the man but, Khilgarrah had proven useful when it came to navigating the minefield that was magic. Whatever timescale was on the spell Morgana wrought was the frame they needed for their preparations, any additional time they had afterward would just be a bonus.

…..

Midnight was always said to be the witching hour and that phrase was rather apt at this point, as Arthur led the way back through the castle making sure the way ahead was clear. Elyan bringing up the rear to ward off anyone who might happen to be wandering round. Merlin was still asleep, lazy sod, cradled protectively like a child between Perceval's huge biceps. Arthur couldn't help but smirk at the phenomenal amount of teasing material he had accrued in the past day alone.

Gods help Merlin when he woke. He would never live it down. First though he had to get the idiot back to his chambers in one piece with no-one the wiser. Honestly the things he did for that man.

Things had been going exceedingly well, right up until a door banged further down the corridor from where they had been. Everyone froze, hoping the footsteps would lead away from them but they kept coming. Arthur caught Elyan's eye and signalled to go distract them whilst he and Perceval mad a last mad dash for the tower stairs. They heard his dulcet tones as he accosted whoever it was lurking down there and ran as silently as possible. The climb to Gaius's door was made in profound relief after the adrenalin rush of almost being caught. They ended up leaning heavily against the inside panels, grinning like fools. Like children escaping with a rare stolen treat. Gaius's eyebrow had reached his hairline and proved to have a sobering effect on their exuberance.

"Would you mind putting my ward down before you drop him!" Perceval looked rather affronted that Gaius would even dare suggest such a thing. But he did move to the warlock's room and lay him carefully on the bed. Khilgarrah was nowhere in sight.

"I need to talk to you and Khilgarrah first thing tomorrow morning Gaius. I haven't seen him all evening and it's important." Gaius had flinched a little at Arthur's use of the dragon's full name, just what had the king found out.

"Ah he hates enclosed spaces sire, isn't used to being indoors. I believe he is sleeping on the battlements." Arthur was taken aback. The man was obviously totally bizarre. He shook his head and left the physician to settle his ward and went off to his own well earned rest. Not even trying to figure the man out. Perhaps it was a requirement of magic users to be completely and utterly mad.

…..

Perceval had remained long after Arthur had left last night and helped him to change Merlin into his night clothes. Gaius had been grateful. Merlin had no real meat on him but to a man in his seventh decade of life. Lifting and moving adult patient's was a hard process without help. That was usually part of Merlin's job as his assistant. The poor boy hadn't made a peep even whilst they had tugged and pulled him every which way. Had in fact slept right through the night without a sound and considering he usually slept with one eye open for trouble nowadays that was rather telling as to how much he needed the rest.

Gaius did have to admit his ward no longer looked like he was at deaths door. Yes he still had circles round his eyes so dark it looked like he'd been in a tavern brawl, but his skin was no longer grey and waxy and the fever had gone down considerably. All in all considering that just one day ago he was quite literally having his life force sucked out of him and burned off, he was looking remarkably well. Khilgarrah had turned up at dawn mentioning that Merlin would probably wake at some point this morning ravenously hungry and weak as a newborn kitten. Gaius trusted his assessment in this, even as his magic was kept busy fuelling the enchantment that kept him in human form, he could still detect the nuances of magical energy in the air far better than anything Gaius could do. So he'd sent for a pot of soup he kept warm at the fire, opened his door fully to keep an ear out for any signs of stirring and set about making several decoctions that could be easily abandoned at a moments notice with no harm.

Gwen had been true to her word and sent Agnes the head cook's niece up, and he had to say she was rather skilled in most of the basic medicines. He'd sent her off happily with lists of things he needed for the infirmary. Swearing her to secrecy and explaining the need for it had resulted in her eyes going flint hard at the mere mention of Morgana. She wouldn't, or couldn't say what had happened to her husband at the hands of the witch, but Gaius knew it had been bad from her expression and the tone of her voice. If Bette could help defeat Morgana once and for all by bringing Gaius supplies and keeping her mouth shut, nothing would stop her and she would take the knowledge she held to her grave.

His other visitor of the Morning had been Arthur just as **he** promised. And that had been interesting to say the least. Khilgarrah had still been there trying to choke down some breakfast, and not being very successful he might add, when the knock had come and the king had entered without preamble.

"How is he?"

"Better sire, but he will probably not wake until later this morning." Gaius was trying very hard to gauge the Kings temper, but was having difficulties, his usual stoic mask he wore to council and in the face of visiting dignitaries was in full force.

"Will he be up for a round table meeting later?" Arthur's eyes never left the open doorway of Merlin's room.

"Ah no. Probably not till tomorrow morning. Though if you were to see him here this evening…." He let the comment hang uncertain whether Arthur wanted to shout at his ward, commend him or just talk battle strategy. "Sire, may I ask, do you wish me to let him know that you have been told of his magic? It will come as a shock, and it may sound better coming from me." Arthur just gave a stiff nod after a moment's consideration. "I'll keep everyone busy till you've broken it to him, and we've had chance to talk, though I don't think I'll be able to keep my wife away for long." The small smile he now wore was full of love as he thought of his beautiful Queen. It lasted only a moment before the mask slipped firmly back into place once more.

Let me know when he wakes." At that he turned from the door his mind moving quickly on to the next concern.

"You both have more knowledge of magic than I and since I now know that all the times we have stood against Morgana before we have had help, I need information." Gaius gestured at the table, inviting the King to sit. This would most likely be a lengthy discussion.

"What is it you need to know?"

"How long do we have? I'm guessing, from what you have said that Merlin is her enemy and the spell was designed to take him out of the running to weaken us, how long would that have taken? It seems prudent to use that as our timeframe for the defences, since she would want to make sure of his being too helpless to do anything. Much as it pains me I'm now certain my sister will be only just patient enough to be convinced of a swift victory." Khilgarrah's gravelly voice was full of contempt as he answered.

"Your assessment of the **witch** is correct she will not wait. Most sorcerers fall to the dreams of the curse within one or two days, the most powerful have only ever withheld for three. Emrys lasted four days. Morgana would more than likely place Merlin in the three day category since she has no idea what it is she is dealing with. All she sees is an ordinary sorcerer albeit a powerful one." Arthur nodded his head to indicate he understood at Khilgarrah's enquiring look as the dragon continued. "Four days after they fall ill, their magic will have gone."

"This is the fifth day since Merlin collapsed in the courtyard so we have just two days to prepare. Gods! We don't have time to get people out, even if the people knew what was coming." He placed his blond head in his hand, fingers splayed through the short strands.

"I did suggest to the Queen that the caves might make suitable temporary housing. I showed Elyan yesterday. I believe they have made some progress in setting it up since there is no-one down there. They have been using the bedding and some furnishings from the west wing."

"Ha! Guinevere is even wiser than I thought. No one has been into that wing since before my father died unless we're filled to capacity. They will never miss anything from the rooms up there."

"Indeed sire they believe it to be haunted. Even the servants refuse to go."

"Meaning most of it can be set up before we need to inform anyone. I believe two days from now we will start the exodus from the lower town. People should only bring goods they can carry, food and livestock. Start by the gates and work door to door. I'll get Leon and Gwaine to work on the details, Gwaine seems to know most of the working men down there and can probably grab volunteers to help fetch and carry. Good!" Arthur seemed a little easier in his mind about the fate of the townsfolk now, and turned to the next point.

"What might we be able to expect her to throw at us, magic wise? And will Merlin be in any condition to help?" Gaius had never realised how proud he was of his adopted son till that moment. Knowing Arthur had just asked him to use magic openly in defence of the city was enough to bring tears to the old mans eyes, even if Merlin was still oblivious.

"I don't think you would be able to stop him from doing so my lord, whether he thinks he's fit enough or not." Arthur frowned at this, knowing full well his friend's penchant for throwing himself into danger, without care for himself. Yet another thing he would have to have words about. "As to what Morgana will do…that is entirely unpredictable, her strength has grown considerably, the fact she cast the spell at all is proof of that. I think the best person for working that information out would be Merlin, he has dealt with her for far longer. I do believe she will have the bloodguard with her though how many are left is anyone's guess. They are great swordsmen, trained from birth as defenders of the high priestesses and were usually also magic users. Some were quite strong." Arthur grimaced at the news, great just more questions. More situations to worry about. He really needed Merlin to wake up. Two days of doing without his idiotically wise council was driving him insane.


	22. Chapter 21 Wakey wakey!

**A/N I promised and here it is. Not much I can say except I hope you like, and I don't own Merlin only the antics I make him get up to.**

**...**

Chapter 21 Wakey wakey!

Frige's incorporeal form stood looking over her son. The only thing a mortal might see if they looked directly at the space she occupied was a slight shimmer, like a heat haze hovering in the air. She bent and brushed insubstantial fingers through the raven hair so like both his fathers. Bending even further she placed a tender kiss to his forehead and commanded him in a voice as ethereal as her body now was.

"Emrys, my little love. My dearest son. You must wake. Your friends need you." Something in the goddesses words had reached through the exhausted haze to Merlin's magic and it was now raising to the surface bringing the warlock with it. Merlin moaned slightly and shifted in the bed frame, his body finally coming out of its deep sleep.

"Always remember we love you!" The whispered words heralded a pulse of energy flaring towards the prone man, and the Goddesses departure. For the first time in nearly 3 days Merlin's sapphire eyes at last opened fully.

He felt so at peace, Calm and tranquillity washing over him in waves. Words of love lingering on the air like a half remembered dream. Looking out of the window he realised just how low the sun rode in the sky, and realised he should have been up hours ago. The serenity of just moments ago snapped and a sense of urgency permeated his conscience. He threw the covers off and leapt from the bed…or rather tried to. The most he actually managed was a half hearted shove at the blankets and a twitch of his legs. He wondered what the hell had happened. Wasn't he somewhere else before? He couldn't recall. He remembered vague flashes of things, but nothing specific.

"Gaius?" The call was not up to his usual strength, but with the open door if Gaius was in the main chamber he would hear it. He was rewarded barely a moment later, as his mentor climbed his short staircase to his doorway eyes twinkling and relieved air following him like a cloak.

"Merlin!" The old man came swiftly across the floor and wasted no time in giving his ward a hug. "Oh my boy, we were worried you would never awaken."

"Well that answers the question of if I was ill or injured. So, what happened?" Gaius didn't answer straight away. Just turned and brought up a bowl of soup and some bread, helped his ward to sit up against a bank of pillows and handing the tray to his ward, picked up the small wooden chair in the corner to place beside the bed. Merlin recognising the actions as Gaius's stalling techniques, and trying to diffuse both his confusion and his mentors discomfort, ate some of the savoury broth then gave a small lopsided grin.

"That bad huh?" The physician finally sat and turned to his ward with a gloomy countenance. Merlin was becoming increasingly uneasy. Whatever had happened had been truly terrible. He drank some more soup just for something to do.

"I take it you don't remember anything from the past few days?"

"Err no. I take it this was something unusual, you're looking a bit grim. You never look like that unless It's something really bad." Merlin's efforts to lighten the atmosphere a little fell somewhat flat when Gaius just kept staring steadily at his face.

"There really is no easy way to say this my boy…"

"Oh god who died?" The lump of bread he had raised to his lips fell back to the tray with a thwump.

"Wha…Merlin! No one died. Stop interrupting!" The low pitched grumbles continued for minute or two, and Merlin nibbled the now rescued bread, and left him to gather his scattered thoughts once more. Feeling abashed at his spontaneous outburst. Gaius was now gripping the bridge of his nose hard with his fingers. Merlin was by now thoroughly bewildered. He'd never seen Gaius so distracted.

"Merlin, Do you remember when you collapsed in the courtyard?" Merlin's face said it all. "I take that as a no then? Hmm the spell must have triggered something, and when it was reversed the memories of the time were erased?" Gaius needed to talk to Khilgarrah again, would have preferred the dragon to be here to be honest but they had both felt that it would be tempting fate.

"Gaius?" Spell? Erased memories?

"Sorry. Now as to what is going on. Merlin you collapsed five, nearly six days ago in the courtyard. You told me you had been hit by a wave of magic." Merlin was nodding along not remembering any of this but willing to go along with it.

"We thought it hadn't done anything as there were no outward symptoms, until you collapsed again the day before yesterday. We have since learned it was a curse sent by Morgana. An ancient one she should have had no knowledge of. Except we now know outside forces are also at work and... and this is getting a bit complicated!" Merlin's eyes had glazed over slightly at the excess of information, and Gaius realised perhaps this was too much, too soon. He waited for Merlin to catch up with what he had imparted so far. Eating steadily whilst he absorbed it all.

"So Morgana sent a curse she got from someone else? I never would have thought Morgana of all people would take orders…She didn't take orders?" Gaius was shaking his head.

"Right just tell me the rest. If it gets too involved I'll stop you and we'll back up." There was one thing Gaius knew for a certainty. His ward was very bright when he put his mind to it. He just wondered if his intellect could handle so convoluted a tale.

"We believe Amaethon and one other are manipulating events to their satisfaction. They gave Morgana the knowledge of the curse but we also believe it was modified we are not entirely sure what it was supposed to do differently at this point. Morgana used the curse, we think to enact revenge on Emrys. Amaethon also sent a friend of yours here to help, someone who knew the curses effects, and could tell us how to counteract it."

"Right, you're saying that this person sent the incantation of a curse to Morgana, to harm me, but then tried to help? Are they insane? Because that certainly doesn't sound like the plot of someone in full use of their faculties!" Another horrible thought now reared its ugly head. "Wait you said they sent a friend to aid me? That means they knew Morgana would use it on me. And they also know who I am! Does Morgana?" Merlin's expression was understandably panicked.

"Merlin calm down. We have reason to believe they never intended to permanently harm you at all The spell was merely an effective tool to hurry their plans along."

"Gaius forgive my scepticism but this is making less and less sense. What plan could possibly be worth cursing someone?"

"Might it be reasonable to assume that telling you Amaethon is one of the gods of the old religion make this any better?"

"I've died! I'm lying here as a corpse and this is my own personal hell!" His arm went across his forehead shielding his eyes as he tried to figure even a modicum of reason in what Gaius had been saying. The old man barely rescued the tray and now empty dishes before it went crashing to the ground. He didn't have the heart to tell him not to be so dramatic it was rather a lot to take in and they hadn't finished yet.

"Right, I take it there's more?" He finally intoned heavily removing his arm from his face just for a second, just long enough to peek out at his mentor. Gaius just nodded, "Of course because my life has been **so** easy till now! I think the rest needs to come out now. I'm pretty sure if this is just the start of it that the rest isn't going to be all rainbows and roses either." Gaius just sighed and continued.

"The curse was designed to torment your mind and remove your magic." Merlin looked suitably horror struck. "With your very life depending on your magic it would have meant certain death to let it continue." Gaius was leading up to something Merlin could tell. Trying to break him in gently. He briefly wondered what could be **worse** than what had already been said. "The only cure we knew was somewhere we could not take you without help." No he really didn't like where he thought this was heading. "The crystal cave is the only place that could have restored your magic." Merlin's already ashen face, paled further. No, please no!

"Who did you tell?" he had never sounded so small and defeated, pleading in every nuance of his pallid features. Gaius lowered his eyes for just a moment calling himself every kind of coward. Then gathering his shredding resolve he looked his ward in the eye and shattered his world with quiet words.

"All of them."


	23. Chapter 22 Crazy lives and realisations

Chapter 22 Crazy lives and realisation

One emotional breakdown, and one mild sedative later and Merlin was feeling, if not happy, at least less fragile than earlier in the day.

Merlin hadn't been able to breathe, so huge was the panic attack. **They knew! They all knew!** And Merlin hadn't known whether to laugh, cry or hide.

Gauis of course had calmed him. Hands placed over each others' hearts encouraging him to breathe in and out with him. Thus allowing his heart to calm and the tears that had wended their slow way down his face to dry. Then he had just held him. Arms crushing and stuttering, thready voice saying sorry, over and over whilst shudders wracked his frame.

After all that he had been barely aware of Gaius telling him Arthur wanted to meet him later and he should get some sleep, the small glass bottle upended down his throat before he'd even registered it was there. Then the cool blessed darkness of unconsciousness for a few hours at least.

Merlin wondered if Gaius had any more little glass bottles of soporifics handy and how many he could down before Arthur was supposed to arrive. He really wasn't looking forward to this meeting.

…..

The word had come that morning that Merlin was conscious, but that he was still very weak and might react badly to being told his secret was now out. The meeting he had been needing since it had all begun would have to wait until that evening.

The terse command in the brief note had not sat well. Arthur was **King** damn it and he would see his servant. His resolve had lasted just until he actually got to their chambers, and saw the after effects of Merlin 'reacting badly'. Neither man had been in any position to see him, they were both too preoccupied.

He had seen the fear and the overwhelming, mindless horror, and realised he knew absolutely **nothing** about what it was like to have such a secret. He had turned around and quietly left, running once he reached the corridor till he spied a servant rounding the corner. Then needing something physical to do he walked. On the pretext of inspecting the walls. All along the battlements. Up and down the towers, and the gatehouse, in both the upper town and the citadel.

He had ended up on the tallest of the south towers, watching as the sun slid inexorably towards the horizon. Trying futilely to imagine what it would be like to be born a warlock. How Merlin must have felt his whole life. Never fitting in because he was different, being labelled as a monster by people he had never met. Wondering what it was like being five, or ten or twenty and being told to hide who you are because if anyone found out you would die in the most horrible way you could ever conceive of. All because they merely lived. He couldn't. Not really and he imagined most of the population couldn't either.

Never in his life before, had he realised just how exclusive some of the laws his father had in place were. He would need Merlin's help to change them.

Turning smartly on his heel Arthur left the tower for his promised meeting.

…..

The extra sleep had done wonders for Merlin's strength. He had washed and dressed with Gaius's help and was now sat in the main room grinding dried mint to make tea.

His legs still wouldn't support him for any length of time, but he felt a hundred times better than this morning.

Gaius was up to something, he kept eyeing him all through dinner as if wondering if he could handle anything else. He was pretty sure this had something to do with the mysterious 'friend' Gaius had mentioned before.

He had remembered more of what had happened whilst he slept. The memories slotting themselves into the gaps seamlessly. Though nothing made much sense being rather fragmented. There had been a man, that strangely familiar man. He couldn't remember seeing him before, but there was something about him that called to him.

When he had woken earlier that same man had been talking earnestly to Gaius as if he knew him very well. Their voices had been too low for him to make out the words but he knew that voice too. As soon as he realised Merlin was awake he had said something a bit sharply to Gaius, nodded in his direction and scarpered. Merlin hadn't seen him since.

There was that look again. Merlin was just a little peeved. "Come on out with it!" He was instantly contrite, wincing slightly at the harshness and Gaius's startled jump. "Sorry. It's just you've been staring at me for the last twenty minutes. If there's something that needs saying just say it. Lets face it I don't think ther's much more that can surprise me today." Gaius sighed and fidgeted, something the physician had **never** done. "The man you saw earlier. Is the friend Amaethon sent."

"I'd already thought it might be. Though I've never seen him before. Is he one of the Druids? He seems very familiar." Gaius sighed again thinking how unfair this last few days had been that all the painful revelations had to fall on his shoulders. He was just too old for these games any longer. "Oh you know him. You know him very well, but he isn't a druid. It's Khilgarrah"

Merlin's head bashed the table as he gave out yet another low moan. **When **would his life ever be simple. Nothing had been easy since the day he arrived in Camelot seven years ago and Merlin was tired to the marrow.

"Amaethon transformed him." The muffled reply sounded suspiciously like a curse. More mumbling into the table followed. Then Merlin turned his head back to his mentor still resting it on the table.

"How? I thought as a Dragonlord he had to obey me…" Gaius opened his mouth to reply, "…No scratch that what am I thinking of course this is a **God** were talking about. Just do me a favour. If Arthur decides to kill me, go along with it. It can't be any worse than this."

"Don't even joke about such a thing Merlin. Arthur won't kill you."

"No I won't. And I want to make sure no one ever has to live with that fear again."

…..

Morgana surveyed the field of tents surrounding the square keep as she walked the walls with her commanders. Odin's messenger stood off to the side waiting patiently to deliver.

"…three thousand men my lady and another two sorcerers."

"That's six thousand in total, will it be enough. The Castle garrison is just as large and the knights mean they outnumber us."

"They are no match for us Hedrin."

"Have you ever seen a knight fight?"

"Are you questioning Lady Morgana's strategy? She…."

"Enough gentlemen." The bickering was giving her a headache. She couldn't wait to be rid of them. Snivelling fools. Oh how she wished she could take them down a peg or two but like it or not she would need them to take back her kingdom. After that was done however she would send them packing and good riddance.

She beckoned the messenger over and he came, reluctantly. He had heard all about the Lady Morgana. "Report." The young man was square and solid, lightly stubbled jaw firm and dimpled. Redheaded and ruddy he looked like nothing so much as a farmer in finer clothes.

"My Lord Odin hopes you find the troops admirable and the agreed price shall be acceptable."

"Yes. Yes. As soon as we have the castle secure my dear brother will be shipped out. Why Odin doesn't trust me to make my brothers death as agonising as possible I will never know. But if he wishes to do the deed himself who am I to deny him." The Messenger audibly gulped. This woman was a nightmare. He was rather glad to get out of there in one piece. Morgana waved The man away and turned back to her men.

"Arthur may have the Knights but we have Eight sorcerers and myself. Or do you doubt my power? The knights and regular troops have no defence against sorcery, And we have surprise on our side. This will not be a battle my friends. It will be a slaughter!" Her mocking laugh followed in her wake all the way down to the courtyard.


	24. Chapter 23 Humble pie

**A/N Bromance galore! Let me know if you think they are too OOC. I don't think they are. I'm just hoping this shows the other side of Arthur the one we don't see very often onscreen, but need to take note of when it does come out to play.**

…**..**

Chapter 23 Humble pie.

Gaius had left them to it. The shock appearance by the king and his declaration that was almost a bid to repeal the ban, had sent the man scurrying from the room gripping his wards shoulder in a comforting gesture as he exited to make his evening rounds.

Merlin didn't know where to look. His friend hadn't looked or even sounded angry. In fact he couldn't make out his expression at all. He was examining him, the penetrating stare uncomfortable, and Merlin felt rather like one of the bugs in Geoffrey's cases, pinned and spread out for all to see.

"I meant what I said you know."

"I know Arthur. I never thought you would kill me." The silences between sentences were crushing. Unusually this was not what he had thought would happen. Raging torrents of abuse, yes, or complete withdrawal and cold shoulders, but not this.

He didn't know how to deal with an Arthur that wasn't calling him an idiot every five seconds with that lopsided smile. He hadn't seen Arthur look **this** serious since Elyan's possession. He wasn't sure he liked that it was now directed at him.

"Say something."

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry for not seeing?" Merlin's smile finally showed at that, cocking his head to one side.

"You were a little distracted. Too busy perfecting your prattitude."

"Ha! That is not a word!" And there was the grin that made Arthur still seem more a carefree boy than a grown man and King.

"It's my word. It means prattish attitude." This time the slow spread of happiness across Merlin's face was tempered with enquiry, as if to say, 'is this alright? Are we still good?'

"So Emrys…" Arthurs teasing stuttered as Merlin's face shuttered abruptly. "Merlin?"

"Don't! Please don't call me that."

"Why not? It is you isn't it?"

"Emrys is the name the druid's call me, but it is not **my** name. My name is Merlin."

"Alright, though I still don't know why." Merlin just dragged his fingers through his hair, mussing the wayward locks even further as he explained.

"The magical community think of me as some kind of saviour. It's…disconcerting to walk into a druid camp, and have dozens of people instantly **think** they know you. When all they really know is the **legend** of what you're supposed to be. So when I ultimately turn out to be a rather ordinary bloke from a farming village they… um…get a little disappointed I think."

"I can't actually believe I'm saying this, but I don't think I ever saw you as ordinary. I could never put my finger on why though." The grin reappeared like the sun blazing out from behind a cloud.

"I can't believe you just said that either. It must be serious if you're giving me compliments."

"You thought that was a compliment?" The teasing and the banter were back, albeit gentler than before. It would take time he thought for it to truly sink in, but Arthur had accepted him. Fully, completely. It was more than he had ever hoped.

"The others. They all know?" They did, he knew it. He just wanted Arthur to confirm it, make it real.

"They do. They wanted to see you today. I managed to convince them you needed time to rest, to adjust. Guinevere came by when you were still asleep." Merlin giggled. Trying to convince Gwen to do anything opposite to her own agenda, was nigh on impossible. "Go ahead and laugh. It's a rather poor king I make if my wife and servant won't even obey me!"

"You know me sire. I never do as I'm told!" Merlin sobered abruptly. Viewing the King steadily. "You're not a poor King. You are The once and future king, and you are destined to be the greatest king who ever lived. They will model their leadership on you and your reign for centuries to come, you are just as much a legend as I, and you earned it more." Arthur did not know what to say. The faith Merlin had was phenomenal, and though he realised there were still issues left to resolve, they would be alright. The quiet was almost comfortable now.

"Did Gaius fill you in on the situation with Morgana?"

"He did." He had done so whilst Merlin had been trying to balance on one weakened leg to pull his breeches up. Needless to say he had only avoided a painful tumble to the floor by Gaius grabbing his arm.

"There will be a round table council tomorrow morning. I'd like you to attend." He paused there as if to gauge his reaction. "There will be seven other knights in attendance, all men trusted with absolute discretion, I know you don't like sharing your secret but we need to discuss strategies for dealing with Morgana and any other sorcerers she may have with her army. If you still want to keep to the shadows that is fine. We will find a way, but I…we could really use your help." Oh good God. Arthur Pendragon, asking humbly, and politely, for help from a now known warlock? Merlin really hadn't meant to laugh but really, **that** was just too much.

"Sorry. I'll be there but, can we work out if I want to tell them later? Not everyone is as…amenable, to sorcery as you seem to have been. I still can't quite believe you really know, that the knights and Gwen know, and I never opened my mouth. You realise the only person still alive who I voluntarily told my secret to was another warlock who had just nearly beaten your father in a tournament." Arthur now sat gaping. "You **will** explain that comment at some point. Right now I think you still need sleep. Lazy! Damned lazy!" Merlin had been drooping. Trying valiantly not to show how utterly spent he was.

"Come on." Arthur hauled him up the stairs to his room with ease. Helped him down and pulled his boots off. "What will the staff say. The great King Arthur playing valet."

"Shut up idiot. Get some sleep." The gaze was fond and full of exasperated amusement. Merlin was asleep before he left the room.

When Gaius returned nearly an hour later, he found his ward, laying fast asleep on top of the covers. His boots were stacked neatly at the end of the bed and he was smiling gently. Gaius fetched the spare blankets and with a smile of his own left him in peace.

…...

Arthur had meant to ask his friend about everything. He'd had a burning need to know all the secrets, lay them all on the table and have them clear the air. He had no doubts there would be things he wouldn't like to hear. Events that were painful, crazily dangerous, emotionally charged or all three. But he had needed to hear them.

Merlin hadn't told him a thing. No tales of derring do. No stories of high adventure, heroics or tragedy. Strangely, it did not matter. Whatever and whenever his friend wanted to say he would be there, no matter how long it took.

Somewhere between witnessing the display of shear, raw emotion earlier and Arthurs time on the tower to think. He somehow realised that to start demanding explanations and firing questions at him like he was a recalcitrant child sent for reprimand would make the man clam up, withdraw and begin to think they didn't care yet again. He would become the rug Arthur had walked all over for years.

There was absolutely nothing he could say to make up for the way the world saw his kind. The way his **family** had made the world see him. But he could be there every step of the way whilst they fixed the broken bonds of trust between his subjects.

There was no more fanatically pursuing the policies of a broken man anymore. This was **his** kingdom now, and to blindly follow the path of genocide his father had instigated would make him just as much a tyrant as he was, worse perhaps. Because in the madness of grief his father had actually thought he was doing the right thing. Arthur had no such platitudes behind which he could hide.

He did not know what he had done to earn the respect and faith of such a man, nor what deeds he had committed to become this once and future king. But he did know that long though the road to peace might be, and however many twists there were upon it. They could do this if they did it side by side.

Arthurs gentle laugh sounded in the corridor as he paused just outside his chambers. It seemed he had found a perfect fit for him after all. As family.


	25. Chapter 24 Telling it like it is

**A/N Another one I've had to cut into two or it would be too long. Will hopefully post tonight but if not it will be tomorrow night as I'm off singing. Whoop whoop! (I don't know if I even CAN sing)**

**I don't own Merlin yet. When I win the Euromillions lottery, I'll buy him.**

…**..**

Chapter 24 Telling it like it is.

Hushed voices spilled from the small council chamber rising and falling in gentle waves. Gwen's laugh sounded suddenly and another round of voices started up. It sounded happy and carefree, so unlike the situation that they were all gathered for.

Merlin had paused at the closed doors, gathering his courage to face them all. Gaius stood by his elbow offering the silent support he needed right now. This was a huge occasion for the warlock and he needed time to just sort himself out. Never had there been so many people who knew his secret before, and he was terrified they had replaced Merlin in their minds with something he just wasn't.

Giving yet another sigh, (he'd lost count of how many that was this morning) he straightened his shoulders and pushed the doors into the room.

The round table from the ancient castle of kings stood glinting in the morning sun filtering through the stained glass. It had been cleaned and polished to a mirror shine, beeswax lovingly rubbed into every crack. He knew he had done it. Arthur had brought it out, when the old council room had been wrecked in Morgana's last bid, the old rectangular table shattered and the chairs turned to matchsticks. Merlin had to admit this table suited the chambers far more than the old one had.

He had stood uncertainly in the doorway, Gaius moving towards his seat. Nearly everyone else had their backs to him, only Arthur and Elyan facing his way. And they were too intent on the animated conversation in front of them to realise he was here.

He took the time to study his king. Last evening he had been tired and shaken. Too emotionally charged to realise how much Arthur's countenance seemed to have changed in just a matter of days.

He looked like he fitted into his skin. It wasn't that he hadn't looked comfortable before but it almost seemed as if he had bloomed. The mantle of kingship now falling naturally on his shoulders, instead of seeming forced. He had always been a man to be reckoned with on the battlefield, but there was something more now. He looked like he could be a force of nature all by himself. Merlin was eminently proud of him.

"Merlin!" He had been spotted it seemed. Everything stopped. Gwen was the first to his side, taking him in a hug. Genuine delight lighting her delicate features.

"How are you? And don't try and tell me you're fine if you're not. I know how you work in these situations and I'll sit on you to get you to rest if I have to." He only opened his mouth to tell her that he was in fact fine, when another voice piped up.

"Best not to argue Merlin. You know she would do it and I'm not sure Princess would approve of her sitting on your lap!"

"Gwaine!" Gwen hit him, Merlin wasn't about to interfere lest he be in the firing line. He knew what Gwen's punches felt like. "That's not what I meant at all and you know it!" Gwaine just sent her an unrepentant, roguish grin. Then he turned to him, rather more serious than normal.

"It's good to have you back." His arm had snaked out and he grasped forearms with the warlock. The tight grip conveying everything he hadn't said. That he would be there if he needed to talk, that he would never judge, and that he was glad he was now safe. Merlin gave him just as serious a nod in return.

"I really am alright Gwen. Still a bit tired but, not much, honestly!" She gave him a searching look then obviously trying to see if he was indeed telling the truth. Merlin gave her his most innocent smile, and she seemed well satisfied. Moving over to her chair, giving Arthurs arm a small squeeze as she did so.

Leon, Elyan and Perceval predictably gave him manly hugs, brief squeezes of one arm round the shoulders, and breath stealing pounds on his back. He gave each a sheepish grin at the reassurances that he would always be their friend, that they were happy he was well, and that they always knew there was more to him. They brought tears to his eyes at the overwhelmingly heartfelt welcome. It was freeing, to have them know and still care. He wished he could bottle it, this perception of being wanted and needed and dare he say it loved. So he could take it back out again on those days he was feeling down.

Arthur had held back. Standing to the right of the table. Hand on the back of a chair. The same chair he patted a moment later and gave him a teasing, come hither glance as he pulled it out for Merlin to sit. Merlin couldn't help but give a small huff of a laugh.

"I thought there were supposed to be others?" Merlin ran his hands nervously over the rounded edge of the surface in front.

"The other knights will be joining us later but for now I thought it would be prudent to just have the round table here."

"You want an explanation then." It's what Merlin had thought.

"No. Whatever you might **want** to tell us, I promise we will listen. It will stay within this room." Merlin didn't say anything for a long time fighting the need to cry. It would be so like Arthur to pick up on that to the point he would never live it down.

"I don't know what to say, except thankyou!" They had never known Merlin as diffident before. He had never been shy in expressing his opinions and letting you know if he was annoyed by running out his legendary sarcasm.

"Perhaps if you asked me questions? I don't promise to answer but…" He gave a self-deprecating shrug not knowing how to even begin. In all the scenario's of how his magic may come out and the aftermath. This particular case had never even been hinted at by his brain. He felt just a little unbalanced by it all.

"You were never at the tavern were you?" The devilish glint in Gwaine's eyes was just too much, Merlin's hearty laughter echoed round the chamber. Leon rounded on the knight incredulous disbelief.

"All the deed's we thought we'd worked out he was probably involved in and you have to ask him that?"

"What? I'm fairly certain a lot of those trips to the tavern coincide with magical mayhem. Am I right?" Gwaine twisted in his seat, turning the full force of his charm on the warlock.

"Um yeah." Merlin felt the blush creeping slowly up his neck to his hairline. Whilst Gwaine just whooped shouting he knew it to the rafters. Merlin called to mind one of those particular instances, and sobered instantly. Turning to Arthur, he realised this **needed** to be said.

"Arthur." Taking his cue from the suddenly serious voice and mien, the king knew this would be one of those painful stories he'd thought about last night. "The night your father died, the old sorcerer who tried to heal him, couldn't because of a pendant, made by Morgana." Oh yes this was definitely not going to be a story with a happy ending. "Agravaine placed it round your father's neck when he knew what you were going to try. It reversed the healing spell so instead of healing him, it destroyed him." Merlin's voice was breaking. Shame and guilt showing plainly even as his head was lowered. "I am so sorry. I should have checked, should have seen it. It was me! I was the old sorcerer." Arthur had placed his head in his hands. He had known, hadn't he? That there would be tales that were not pretty. "It was my fault he died."

In his own unique way Merlin was a warrior. Battle hardened and battle scarred. Those scars didn't come without a mental price. Every warrior of conscience he knew, had things he wasn't proud of. Hell Arthur wasn't proud of most of the things his father made him do. He couldn't blame the man for trying to heal a wound that according to Gaius had already been fatal.

"It wasn't though was it? Morgana, Agravaine, hell the **assasin** killed him more surely than you did. As far as I am aware, all you did was fail to check for something you didn't know would be there. Stop blaming yourself for things beyond your control."

"I've told him that before sire. Most especially just after it happened." Gaius gave his ward a long look that promised retribution later for keeping these fears to himself for so long. Merlin, for the most part ignored him.

"Does that mean you were the one to throw us around that clearing?" Perceval's voice piped up and four knights all turned as one to glare a little at the hapless young man.

Merlin threw his hands up clearly trying to apologise.

"You told us you were going to kill the king!" Leon sounded aghast and his face paled. "You also said you were going to kill Arthur when I gave you the crossbow. I thought you were just joking!"

"In his defence he was enchanted at the time." Gwen's sudden yet fierce protection had been exceedingly welcome

"You knew?" Now Leon just sounded surprised.

"Not about the old man obviously, but about the enchantment yes." She turned back to the warlock "What **were** you doing exactly?" Gwen's curiosity was aroused. She knew it hadn't been his fault. It had taken his will and he wasn't acting on his own volition.

"I needed to kill the mother beast. The one in my neck would have taken over once again. Gaius found a way to make it sleep temporarily. The knights were in my way and it would have taken too long. I only had a short time before it came back to awareness." Unconsciously rubbing his neck throughout, he turned to the knights. "I am sorry for using you as a stepladder." The apology may have been more convincing if it hadn't been belied by the twinkle of pure mischief in the young mans eyes.

"Mother beast, one in your neck?! Care to explain that?" Elyan sounded horrified for good reason. He still vividly remembered the torture at the hands of Morgana and her pet Nathair. Merlin, Gaius and Gwen all opened their mouths to clarify. Surprisingly it was Arthur who answered.

"When he was injured in the valley of the fallen kings. The days he was missing, he was in Morgana's hut. The Fomorrah is a snake. It takes the will of the person away and replaces it with a command. Morgana commanded him to kill me. Simple." If anything Elyan looked even worse. Gwaine gave a pained grimace, Perceval and Leon looked like they wanted to be sick, and Merlin, Gwen and Gaius all glanced at him with disbelief. "What? I do pay attention when people tell me things, and that isn't something you can forget in a hurry." Merlin was feeling much more relaxed about this now. It was a relief to be able to share things so openly. Even with Gaius. Anything he and the physician discussed, if it involved magic, always came with admonishments to be careful, and conceal it at all costs.

"Why did you never tell me about that? You were enchanted I would never have condemned you." Merlin's gaze was far away his fingers tracing idle patterns on the raised knotwork.

"I hated the thought I could be controlled so easily. That even with my magic I had no defence, no way to resist. It was difficult to realise just how vulnerable I could be. I'm supposed to protect, that is what magic is for. It shamed me to realise I had had to save you from myself." The loyalty fairly shone from the warlock as he turned back to his king. It had Arthur fairly stumped. They were all quiet after that all realising there was so much they did not know. So many layers, yet to be uncovered.

Gwen cut through the melancholy that had settled on the group, with a request, simple but which meant so much.

"Will you show us? Will you do some magic for us? Please?" How could he refuse. The only magic he had been allowed to do since he had been healed was lighting a candle so Gaius and Khilgarrah could check his magic had suffered no ill effects.

He didn't say anything just gave a blinding grin and made a fist, bringing it to his lips.

"**Forbearne**." His eyes flashed gold, the flame appeared on the top of his palm and he held it out for all to see. He left it there for a few moments then eyes flashing yet again he sent it dancing and skittering across the table. Then he turned the flame to ribbons, weaving knots of light in the air. They eventually faded leaving a heavy silence behind, but the awe on his friend's faces was priceless.

…..

**Spell translation.**

**Forbearne - Fire **


	26. Chapter 25 Painful revelations

**A/N I hereby apologise most profusely for not posting this yesterday. I will not bore you with the details but it was manic. I hope to have at least another posted by this evening though to make up. I am still not 100% happy with it. But I have rearranged and re-written it so many times I'm at the point if I don't post it now I will scream.**

**Heartfelt thanks to everyone who has favourited, followed or reviewed.**

…**..**

Chapter 25 Painful revelation.

The golden glow had faded from Merlin's eyes but the comforting hum of it under his skin still shivered through him pleasantly. The well of it had always felt as deep as the sea even if his control and access to it had been shaky before he left home. As a teenager it had been hard, his hormones and wildly see-sawing emotions made his magic flare at weird times and remain oddly silent at others. Since coming to Camelot the focus he gained from having a purpose and the incantations in his spellbook, had helped to settle him. Smooth off the rough edges of his control and allow him a greater breadth of reach for his magic.

The well had only gotten deeper when his Dragonlord heritage had been awakened. And now, since the curse and his subsequent cure in the cave, it felt limitless. He could now feel things at the edge of his senses and it seemed, if he just reached a little further, they would come into sharp focus and offer up the secrets of the world. It was heady stuff and a thrill had run down his spine at the chance to show off even just a little.

He couldn't stop smiling even as they got down to the more serious business of what to do about Morgana and her army.

"It would help to know how large her force is, but sending scouts out will be tricky without alerting anyone who might be in league with her."

"Could we send them out under a ruse perhaps?"

"What if we were to say they were going out on a training exercise? Send two groups at least. You've done surprise training enough times to not seem suspicious."

"Two groups isn't going to be enough to scout around the whole area before Morgana comes and we can't afford to send out more. That would just alert whoever is now feeding her information and if it comes to it I'd prefer the men to be in the city when she gets here."

"Maybe I could help?" Merlin didn't know if what he had been thinking of would work. He had never tried anything like it, and his book hadn't mentioned anything remotely similar without a whole host of ingredients, training or preparations first. But he had done seemingly difficult or impossible things before on instinct and it couldn't hurt to try.

"You think you can? What did you have in mind?" Arthur's feelings about his friend's magic were complicated. He saw the pain that his fear of rejection had brought, and saw the thrill that using it for the entertainment of his friends had given.

But thought's of Morgana still intruded at the most inconvenient times. He didn't want to become complacent and leave Merlin vulnerable to her malicious intentions again. Merlin may be destined to be his protector, but Merlin was also his to protect, and he did not want a repeat performance of his almost dying, so soon after the first.

"I'd need something of Morgana's. I think I can trace her signature back from an object of hers, possibly, maybe, I'm not sure actually if I can, It just feels like I can and I thought it would be worth a try." Merlin's face had turned a delicate shade of pink at his babble trying to explain a concept that he knew somehow would work if he could figure out how. Arthur of course rolled his eyes dramatically as if Merlin being an idiot were expected and here was the proof. Gaius's face held a fierce frown.

"You've never scryed before Merlin and the art is notoriously difficult even with proper training." Now it was Merlin's turn to frown

"I'm almost positive I can do this. I know what Morgana's magic feels like I'm sure I can trace it." Gaius was still frowning but it was tinged with thought now more than warning.

"Would it be dangerous for him to try it Gaius?" Arthur's question brought Merlin's brows together then. Overprotective prat!

"Arthur I can look after myself."

"Clearly it was some other all powerful warlock that was struck down, sight unseen five days ago then, and almost died." That was just a little uncalled for Merlin resolved. It wasn't as if Gods decided to meddle in human affairs most of the time. And that thought sent Merlin's mind skittering off with the realisation that Arthur didn't know the larger picture in this and he had no idea how to even begin to tell him.

"Bloody hell!" Merlin's sudden and violent expletive made everyone jump and turn to him with varying degrees of disquiet.

"Gaius he doesn't know the whole thing does he?" Gaius's eyes widened, and he paled with shock. No with everything else going on it had never really been explained.

"Merlin you will explain that comment." Arthur was now thoroughly confused, not for the first time, and extremely annoyed.

"I have no clue how to tell you this gently so please try not to shout." The glare he had been sending Merlin intensified. "Err. The…um…curse that Morgana has is one given to her by Amaethon, the god of magic. And he um sent Khilgarrah here to help because he has some agenda of his own that we aren't sure of but we believe he is not really trying to harm me, and well we know this because Khilgarrah is a friend, that helps me protect you, but you've never really seen him with me because he can't normally come here since he isn't exactly human. Amaethon transformed him."

"Right. I'd ask if you'd been on the cider again if I didn't now know that you never go to the tavern." Arthur's tone was sceptical at best. Merlin visibly winced. Even to his own ears it sounded like nothing so much as garbled nonsense. Entirely too far fetched, like something in one of the made up bards tales that were meant to entertain children.

"It really is true. You know half the time we never told you things that had occured simply because you would never have believed us. Normal doesn't happen very often in Camelot." Arthur grimaced at the reminder. Several incidents leaping to mind almost instantly of things Merlin had tried to warn him of and hadn't been believed only to be proven right again later. Sigan, the Goblin and his…cough…stepmother being just three. Of course it was Gwaine, who had to jump on the only other bit of the sentence that Merlin had hoped to delay the explanation of.

"So what is Khilgarrah if he isn't 'exactly' human?" Merlin muttered under his breath about knights who were far too observant for their own good, before taking a deep calming breath and turning to face the music.

"I told you once, that I never knew who my father was. You remember sire when we went to find Morgause?" Arthur just nodded not knowing where this was going or what it had to do with Khilgarrah. Merlin's features had taken on a melancholy cast that Arthur didn't like

"Gaius told me just before we went to find him, that my father had been running from yours when he met my mother. They fell in love. But Uther pursued him right across the border and he had to flee again before he knew my mother was pregnant, he wanted to protect her. I saw him, knew him for a day, before he took a blade for me and died in my arms." Arthur felt like he had been punched in the gut. The only man Arthur knew he and Merlin had gone to find together, who's story fitted everything Merlin had said, was a man that Arthur hoped did not in fact fit, because if it did, then Arthur had told him he had never been worth Merlin's tears. He knew though, that it was a false hope. One borne of a desperation to know, that he had not in fact given him pain.

"It was Balinor?" The question was quiet, so full of anguish, the answer even more so.

"Yes." That one word explained so much. A Dragonlord, the last of his kind, something that Khilgarrah had said to him recently. At that Arthur knew, just knew who Khilgarrah was. What he was, and he wasn't happy.

"You let him live! Why? He killed so many!" Merlin's head bowed the grief and guilt shining through clearly. I could not. As soon as the connection was made, my soul recognised him as kin. It would have been like killing my brother! I had the spear in my hand, ready to kill him." He held his hand up looking at it, gripping as if he even now held the spear. "He asked for clemency. I understood his pain, and so I granted him mercy, told him to leave. That if he ever returned, I **would** kill him! He had been driven briefly mad with the isolation of his imprisonment. Held as a trophy, knowing all his family had been slaughtered. Tell me in what world, any rational creature wouldn't snap and seek revenge in such circumstances? I promise you he can do no more harm even if he wanted to. He truly regrets it, and though I can't really forgive him for doing it. To kill him would have made me as bad." He let his arm fall heavily, no longer able to look anyone in the eye.

Arthur couldn't stay. Needed to think, and he couldn't do it here. Had to remove himself or regret the consequences. He stood so abruptly the chair fell on its back to the floor. Arthur ignored it, his face set hard as he strode from the room. Merlin made to stand, half turned even as he tried, and ended face to face with Leon. The only other man here,

who faced the dragon with them, his expression intensely curious and just a little wary.

"Just what the hell was that?" Merlin glanced round at their bafflement and realised Arthur was the only one to have made the connection and guessed who Khilgarrah really was. Wonderful, yet another uncomfortable conversation, would they never end? Gaius had noted his discomfort and moved to rescue him, though it wasn't really much of a rescue when it could lead straight from the frying pan into the fire.

"Khilgarrah is the great dragon captured by Uther and held in chains under the castle for twenty years." Leon hardened there was no other word for it. His spine straightened, his eyes were chips of granite and his face was stone. The hand he had gripped Merlin's arm with now held his sword in a fierce grip.

"He is a creature of magic Leon no matter the form he now occupies. Your sword will not work. Please talk to him. He has saved my life twice since the attack and given me the means to save Camelot so many others. Please think." Merlin's tone was so earnest and heartfelt, low though it was that it brought him back from the razor edge.

"I think perhaps now might be a good idea to take a break. Merlin I think you and I will Go and find something from Morgana's old room, with your permission Gwen?" Gwen just nodded. Too worked up and overwhelmed to do much else.

"We will reconvene in two hours then. If there is any change I'll send a runner." And with that they all removed themselves from the chambers.


	27. Chapter 26 Finding the witch

**A/N I blame almost an entire day of screaming kids, no coffee and sitting and bending to facepaint said kids for this chapter not being posted yesterday. I possibly could have done it last night but the blinding headache from too long in the sun at a facepainting birthday party wouldn't let me even see the screen let alone post anything, so I apologise. Oh if only life wouldn't intrude I could get this finished quicker! Hehe!**

**I don't own Merlin but I did paint a wizard yesterday does he count. **

…**..**

Chapter 26 Finding the witch.

Morgana's chambers looked much the same as when she left them nearly four years ago, apart from a thick layer of dust and an odour of damp.

There was no shortage of personal items Merlin could pick if he were so inclined, as she had never had chance to collect anything and the rooms had been shut and unused ever since her betrayal.

The gowns were now moth-eaten and hanging in near tatters in the wardrobe. What little silk had survived was covered in cobwebs and near crumbling.

Under Gwen's watchful gaze Merlin crossed straight to Morgana's jewel case. "Gwen you know which pieces were her favourites. That she wore all the time? I promise they will never leave this room I only need to hold the item for a few moments."

Gwen gave a nod and came over to the casket, carefully lifting the lid. The contents were well organised as if Morgana had only stepped out to a feast and would be back later.

"Why are you using her jewels?" Gwen had been intrigued since Merlin had mentioned using his magic to locate her. "Wouldn't her clothing be better? The hounds in the kennels located one of the knights missing children when they let them smell one of her dresses."

"This is a little different. I'm not using the sense of smell to locate Morgana. I'm using her magic. Gems hold the signature of people longer than fabric if they posses magic. They are like lodestones for the power of it, so when they wear them and use magic a little gets trapped, it is this power that I hope to let my magic follow back to its mistress and see what is happening in the surface of the stone." Gwen looked, if possible, even more fascinated as she handed Morgana's favourite necklace over to the warlock.

The delicate gold filigree and sparkling chips of blood red rubies sparkled as Merlin gently took the piece in both hands. Closing his eyes he let his magic swell and his senses fan out seeking the spark within the large faceted ruby in the centre, that would signal the magic of the witch. There, a small gold fleck, swirling through the faults within the crystalline structure of the gem.

Gently but firmly he pushed out and allowed his magic to leach into the stone and latch onto the hint of power. He thought he felt another presence as well, vast and ancient yet kind but it was gone before he could look further. There was a sharp jolt as his awareness was suddenly yanked away, sent flying towards a source that called to it.

…

Morgana sat surrounded by the generals of her army. Odin's last forces had finally arrived with the provision wagons and Odin himself astride a golden destrier dripping with armour. A still powerful man even as he entered his fifth decade, his presence still held a command most men would envy.

"My lord Odin. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" Morgana was unreasonably annoyed by the man's presence. It threw her plans into disarray. Despite this she bit her tongue and kept her tone civil.

"Lady Morgana." Odin's head barely moved with his nod of respect. How dare the man. She was a queen and deserving of respect.

"We were not expecting you. I understood the plan would see Arthur delivered to your kingdom in chains only once your troops helped me defeat Camelot's standing army."

"The plan has changed somewhat. I now find myself eager to remove Arthur Pendragon as a threat as soon as may be. I also find that I do not trust you. I hope you take no offence since I take none at your dislike and mistrust of myself."

"You doubt me? My plan will allow us to take the city with little resistance. The element of surprise should never be underestimated. And I have an even greater reason to believe in its success."

"And what would that be my lady?"

"Why, only that I have eliminated Camelot's greatest protector!" Odin looked rather taken aback as if this was something that he had not expected. "Oh did I not say. Arthur was never the city's best defence. He had a secret sorcerer on his side. All those victories, and not one of them actually his! But I have negated the threat posed by his pet sorcerer. He is no longer an issue!" Morgana's tinkling laugh was tinged with hysteria and madness and Odin took an involuntary step back in alarm. He became even more alarmed the next moment when a white blur streaked out of the sky and landed near Morgana. The dragon had grown rapidly in the last few months, he was bigger every time he decided to drop in, and he did that every few weeks.

Ever since the little creature had healed her it had seemed to be fascinated. It would come and chirp at her cheerily, stay for a while, heal any hurts she may have (even minor ones) and lean into her touch when Morgana would stoke him like a cat.

Morgana was vastly amused by the creature. And genuinely happy every time he arrived. In fact this dragon seemed to be the only living thing Morgana had any real affection for. Now sitting here, rubbing the soft, pure white scales around the dragon's neck, she delighted in the fact she could make the powerful king so uncomfortable.

Her commanders had been talking strategy amongst themselves whilst Morgana dealt with Odin. The talk had ceased of course once the dragon showed up though most had seen the creature in Morgana's company at least once before now.

"Sit Odin. We will try and accommodate your request to kill Arthur on the field. Though I'm sure you understand that with only three days until we march, many of our plans are already in place."

Odin for his part was a brave man, but even he realised when it came to dealing with Morgana Pendragon, she was an entirely unpredictable and therefore extremely dangerous entity. He decided that for now discretion was the better part of valour, and he would play it safe until he could work out a plan to deal with the witch later.

As he sat and the discussion turned to troop numbers, the likely placement of Camelot's defenders and supply wagons for the march, No one noticed the slight shiver in the air as their silent watcher disappeared back to his body.

…...

Merlin's Knees buckled as soon as his awareness returned. Gwen and Gaius both caught a side as he blacked out for only a minute or so whilst he settled back into himself.

"You stupid boy! What you did was entirely too dangerous! If I had known **that** was what you intended I would have stopped you! Astral projection requires months of study, numerous safeguards, protections and at least a day of preparations to cleanse your aura and most certainly more strength than you currently posses. Jumping off to follow another's magical aura as you just did could have killed you. Just **what** were you thinking? I thought you were going to scry using the necklace as a focus." Merlin was now sat on the floor, propped against the table holding the casket. He doubted his legs would take his weight again for a few minutes.

"I thought that was what I did." Gaius's incredulous expression was too mixed with worry and fear for Merlin's liking. "I wasn't trying to project, honestly Gaius. You warned me rather vehemently when I asked about it before. I'd decided I'd ask the druids about it next time Arthur gave me the day off or you sent me out for herbs. I do listen, especially when you tell me about magic."

"So what did you do?" Gwen had been rather alarmed when merlin's body had stiffened suddenly, just as soon as he had closed his eyes. Calling his name and shaking his shoulder had had no effect for a good 20 minutes and they were both desperately trying to figure out what to do, when Merlin's knees had given out. It was quite frankly one of the most nerve wracking things she had ever witnessed.

"I only meant to wrap my magic around the spark of Morgana's to establish a connection. It was only supposed to show images in the ruby, but somehow as soon as our magic touched together I felt a jolt and it was if I was actually there in the room with her."

"That would be because you were! Or at least your spirit was." A pounding headache was starting and Merlin just wanted to go to sleep again.

"It shouldn't have done that though should it Gaius? Not without an incantation? I…just before the jolt. It was as if there was another there with me it felt so old, perhaps as old as the world itself. Could Amaethon be meddling more? Showing me what we need?"

"I don't know. What did you see?" Gaius was thoughtful, this situation was becoming more and more complicated, it was entirely possible that he was once again sending help, or Merlin's magic could have done it. It wouldn't be the first time his magic had acted on instinct.

"Morgana has allied herself with Odin. They march in three days. I'm not entirely sure where they are, I didn't recognise it, though my guess would be north. She was with her commanders and Odin himself. They didn't say exact numbers but my guess at least 5'000 possibly more. They seem to be a mix of mercenaries, and Odin's men though what ratio of each she never said. No siege engines, I don't think they are expecting much of a fight." At this Merlin paused to take a drink of the cool water Gaius thrust under his nose and then the last scene slotted back into his brain and he remembered Morgana's visitor. "Oh Gods! Gaius! Morgana has Aithusa. He seems to be Morgana's friend. We have to get him back! Her corrupted magic will destroy him, he's too young to withstand it." At the name of the young dragon being allied with Morgana, Gaius seemed to shrink. Gwen was mystified. Who was Aithusa that Merlin and Gaius were so distraught over him?

"We need to find Arthur. He needs to know this as soon as possible." Merlin was struggling to rise again, clearly determined to find the monarch himself.

"Merlin please calm down. From Gaius's expression when you were…" Gwen waved her arm vaguely not being able to work out a suitable description of his act of magic, then carried on, hoping they would know what she meant. "When you then fell at the end, I think you need to get back to your chambers and rest. We have an hour and a half before we convene again and we can always go through the preparations we have made first. I think you might be able to get at least a little sleep, we can send for you when we are ready. If we have three more days I should think we have enough time." Gwen's gentle smile, tinged with humour helped to calm Merlin enough for Gaius to bundle his ward up and get him off to their shared rooms, whilst Gwen went in search of her errant husband.

…..

Arthur didn't know where he was going. Just let his feet take him where they willed until he found himself at the top of the stairs to the lowest dungeons the ones that hadn't been used for years. They were the rough ones Uther had made for when the kingdom was at the height of the purge. They were part of the cave systems. Naturally deep niches and alcoves in the rock face. That had literally just had bars placed across the entrances to make temporary cells. The passageway running past them leading to yet another set of stairs to the caves proper. The caves where the dragon spent 22 years locked away in isolation.

As Arthur descended into the depths and made his way out on to the rocky ledge in the cavernous space. He could not help but wonder why he had come down here. The last set of steps led from the ledge down to the floor of the chamber. Rough hewn, open on one side and decidedly narrow. There at the bottom was what he had been unconciously looking for.

The end of the broken chain looked scorched and twisted. It was as if it had exploded. Arthur had been one of the few who had come down here after the attack and tried to figure out how the dragon had escaped. All they had known at the time was that Morgause had tried to have his father killed, Morgana had gone missing and the dragon had escaped all within two days. It seemed as if Morgause had had more than the knights in mind to take the kingdom down. It had been the accepted story and there had been no evidence to contradict it until now.

Arthur had to wonder just how many and how much of those events Merlin had been involved in. How many more painful stories were there? How many times would he remember certain adventures and then need to radically alter his thinking about how they had played out?

He was so very angry about Khilgarrah. But he conceded, Merlin did have a point. He looked around the cave, thinking as he did so what it must have been like to be trapped here like a caged bird. Worse still was the realisation that a dragon was a creature of intelligence, betrayed, and left chained and grieving for an entire race. Did dragons grieve the same way as humans? Arthur didn't think it would be the same but probably just as deep.

Arthur sighed, turning away back towards the light. His father had left a legacy of hate so vast. Arthur couldn't help but think he may not have the means to repair it. But he promised himself, he would most definitely try.


	28. Chapter 27 Of Dragons and Kings

**A/N This is something that wasn't going to go here but I think it needed it and hey it's the second chapter of today (not that I think posting at 5.30 in the morning is really today).**

…**..**

Chapter 27 Of Dragons and Kings.

Khilgarrah was on the battlements when Arthur found him. His face was turned into the sun basking in the light and warmth as a cat might. Now that he thought of it, Khilgarrah's human visage resembled the dragon to some extent, but he would have never put the clues together until Merlin had pointed it out so blatantly. Arthur pondered whether this made him truly oblivious as Merlin usually claimed or just foolish to believe everything at face value. Either trait was a terrible one for a king and Arthur would have to work hard to make reparation for them.

This whole week had gone from bad to worse in finding things out about himself and his family that he didn't like. Indeed there had been many instances in the last days where he had felt that it would be a better idea to get rid of the whole Pendragon family and start again. He really couldn't fathom the faith everyone seemed to hold for him. What was it that made them believe so totally in the rule he would have and the man he would become.

His father had taught him well. Too well. All he had known was the evils of magic, and those who used it. He had never been given the chance to know the other side. Now that chance had come calling, and Arthur did not intend to waste it. He was still angry yes, but one of the few good things his father had taught him was diplomacy, he would bite his tongue and talk to this man/dragon/creature? And hopefully find his way towards forgiveness and acceptance.

With this thought in mind Arthur consciously relaxed his stance and made his way to the dragon's side. He leaned on the parapet for a few moments trying to work out the best way to begin.

"Why did my father turn against the dragons and their dragonlords?"

"Ah. You have been told then who I am." There was no fear or accusation in his voice just a statement of fact. "Uther turned against the dragonlords first. They came at his call believing they were being summoned to help destroy a great threat to the kingdoms as they were wont to do. An uprising by the Picts and the Saxons were given as the reason. Uther told them he feared the five kingdoms would be crushed between them, and they needed aid to drive the invaders out. They believed the lies, gathering to the north just before the border. Uther deployed the knights and they were slaughtered where they stood, the dragons with them doused in Naphtha oil and set alight. There are few weapons that will harm dragons but we do burn. Not easily granted but we do. It took hours for my kin to die. Few survived and those that did were hunted down as were their wives, their children. The powers of a Dragonlord are not magic in the way that sorcery is magic. It is a bond between the races, a sharing of souls. Uther did not understand it, and what he did not understand he feared. He believed, wrongly that we would retaliate for the wrongs done to sorcerers. Dragonlords have always been neutral, advisors of kings for that reason. We do not desire conflict, but will defend when it is necessary. Dragons are the guardians of prophecy, and our lords are the peacemakers. There was no need for Uther to hunt us like animals, all he had to do was ask us to leave and we would have gone. When Uther called Balinor saying he had been wrong and wanted peace, he should never have listened, I begged him not to listen. I had seen what would happen. There were three dragons left that day, and twelve lords. He went and he regretted it as I knew he would. We were both supposed to be trophies. The others were killed, strung along the walls of Camelot like traitors and Balinor was injured. Uther secured me himself with chains of the magic he so despised boasting that I was a prize and would serve as a lesson to all other creatures of magic. Balinor was to have a public execution. I do not know how he escaped but I know he did not die. Not until years later. When Emrys was born all of magic rejoiced that our salvation had come, and I knew as soon as I saw Merlin he was Balinor's son their magic is so very similar."

Arthur hadn't known any of this. The tale he had been told was of carnage and destruction on the part of feral dragons. His father claiming they were no better than animals, without rational thought and that dragonlords had used them for their own gain. He wondered how many other tales his father had told where the truth had been twisted beyond recognition, merely to cover his part in wholesale slaughter. He understood better now, why he may have sought revenge. Such a story would have been hell to live through. There was nothing black and white anymore just ever deepening shades of grey, and Arthur would have to learn to live with the shadows. The understanding only muted the anger he felt at the deaths of his people, but they ahd both been wronged and he would learn to live with it. There was just no point in keeping the cycle of vengeance going. All it would do was cause more harm, he had to let it go, and try to move on. "I am sorry for what your people suffered at my fathers hand."

"There is no need. You did not commit the atrocities they endured. The man responsible is now dead and the kingdom has moved into a new era. A brighter one I hope. One that you and Emrys shall build from the ashes, like the phoenix rising from its own destruction. I apologised to Emrys after the event, but now I shall apologise to you. I am sorry for the deaths of those I killed in my rage. I should have known better"

"Your apology is accepted on condition that nothing like that ever happens again, I understand your reasons but I do not condone your actions."

"I do not think there will ever be a need for such actions again. I also believe the gods have your view, and my new body is part of my punishment. I must confess it is rather effective. I never knew what it was like to be human before. I do not think I will make that mistake again." Arthur knew in the interest of being a better person he really shouldn't be glad that the dragon found it uncomfortable being as he was, but it was so very hard not to find it funny. He did however manage to bite back the laugh that threatened to emerge, wishing as he did so that it didn't make him look churlish but not holding out much hope.

"I'd like you at the knights meeting this afternoon. I believe Merlin may need the support. Magic has been a topic of much contention in this kingdom and I believe if we are to move past the stereotype quickly we will need more positive views than just Merlin's friends. I don't think we will have much choice in Merlin using magic openly in this conflict and I don't want him being mistaken for the enemy when he does. There will be enough bloodshed, I don't want my allies to be spilled as well." Khilgarrah's steady gaze was rather unnerving knowing that he was usually three times the size of Arthur in reality. It was quite clear he was eyeing him up, trying no doubt to make out his character, he hoped he passed.

"Merlin had doubts about you when he first learned of your shared destiny. It was not long however before he was coming to me not with tales of your idiocy but your courage, honour and compassion. I have always believed you would be the greatest king this world has ever known. Now I can see it. It is a brave man who can admit their fault and take the steps to correct it. I would be honoured to help in any way I can."


	29. Chapter 28 The truth, the whole truth

**A/N ok this is a little longer than I planned it. But hey it gives you more to read. Ah well. I do hope you like. He he look out for my little rant about the usual analogy. **

**I don't own Merlin. Except in my head because everything is free there and I can have anything I want. **

…..

Chapter 28 The truth, the whole truth.

Arthur, in the company of Khilgarrah, met Gaius and Merlin at their chamber door. The strategy meeting had been put back an hour at Gwen's insistence, relaying what had happened that morning and knowing Merlin needed the sleep after everything that had happened in the last few days.

Arthur was rather glad of the delay, especially when the news of Morgana's movements was conveyed. He needed the time to work out exactly what they were going to say to the knights, in on the secret of Morgana's army.

Merlin was at first rather wary of Arthur's mood, glancing fearfully between Khilgarrah and Arthur. He had after all stormed out of this morning's session when the nature of their guest had come up. But seeing no real animosity between the two, Merlin had high hopes that Arthur had actually thought about what had been said. The fact that the two had arrived together would seem to suggest they had at least talked and resolved some of the issue.

"I've asked Khilgarrah to sit in session with us. I think we need as many people who know magic as possible."

"I believe that is an excellent plan sire." Gaius was rather surprised but pleased at Arthur's suggestion. The last few days he had developed a maturity about his approach to magic that was a joy to see. That capability seemed to be seeping into his day to day handling of his temper too.

"I hate to ask this of you Merlin, but I cannot in all honesty tell the knights we will have magic on our side without revealing the source of that magic. I have toyed with the merits of you doing so as Dragoon and will understand and introduce you as the old sorcerer to them this afternoon, if that is what you decide, but I can see difficulties if I do. They know that disguise as a man who had a hand in the death of my father and to sort out that issue will cause problems. I would prefer you to be open with the knights, they are honourable men but I can also see difficulties with this as well. There is no way of knowing how they will react to the fact you have magic and the more that know the easier it will be for the secret to slip out. I will leave the decision up to you, but I need to know which so that we are prepared." Merlin hated this. It would have been easier to accept a decision Arthur expected him to follow rather than leaving it to him. The trouble was it would be hard either way. His eighty year old persona would make it so he would be able to resume a normal life again after the battle, however it was hard on his body to be eighty. He would find manoeuvring in battle very difficult with aching joints, and shortened breath. As himself it would be easier in the fighting but afterward would be excruciating. Having to face everyone knowing he had helped to win the victory by using a forbidden art. Having them judge him without knowing him, or his motives. He sighed heavily, knowing in his heart which he should choose, that it was the only sure way to force the win and knowing also that it was the much harder path.

"You know me sire I never do anything easy. I'll tell them. They will know how **I** fight." Gaius standing off to one side, not knowing how to help, couldn't have been more proud of his adoptive son than in that moment.

"You will have all our support in this you know that? You never have to face these things alone anymore." Merlin felt the tears prick the back of his eyes yet again. Turning away to wipe them surreptitiously before they had chance to fall, honestly he was becoming a watering pot lately. It wouldn't do to give Arthur any more ammunition. Turning back to his king once more giving a nod of respect and a wry grin.

"Well shall we go beard the lions in their den?" Arthur gave a short bark of laughter, shaking his head as he did so.

"Lets."

…..

They weren't the first to the council chamber. That honour had been taken by Leon, and the servants who were even now laying out a selection of meat, cheeses, fruit and bread along with pitchers of water.

"I took the liberty of ordering it sire, I believe we all missed lunch and I know these things can take time."

"Yes Leon, thank you. I would have if you had not. Are the others on their way?"

"We are!" Gwaine's laughter filled voice preceded he and several other knights into the room, including Perceval. Lastly Gwen swept in on the arm of her brother, heads held together talking quietly. They all took a seat except Merlin and Khilgarrah. The servants were commanded to leave and the doors were shut tight.

"Gentlemen." There were nods of respect all around the table. "What is said in this room stays in this room. There will be no talking about it amongst yourselves outside of this room. This is a matter for your ears only and will be shared with no-one. Do I make myself clear?" There were only slight looks of confusion amongst the knights. They had already been appraised of the seriousness of not mentioning Morgana's advancing army nor the preparations for defeating them. So they could not understand why Arthur would need to ask them to be discreet once more.

"You do. Though you do not **need** to ask us to be quiet. We would never betray anything, and most especially to Morgana." The older knight Sir Acton Spoke out for all of them it seemed.

"I do not just speak of Morgana, though she is so woven through this tale that it is hard to separate the two." The Knights all looked at each other then at Khilgarrah with a touch of suspicion. Arthur glanced over to where all their gazes were pointing and finally noticed Merlin and Khilgarrah hovering at one side clearly not knowing where they should be.

"Oh for goodness sake both of you sit! You're just as much a part of this as they are!"

Merlin visibly flinched at that, knowing what would come later and his courage failing him. He slumped into the chair at the right hand of the king that Arthur had purposely slid out. Khilgarrah just as gracelessly flopping into the one on Merlin's right.

The other knights of course were incredulous, Gaius and Gwen were beaming and Merlin's other friends looked like they were about to burst into a round of applause. Merlin was rather glad they restrained themselves. This was hard enough as it was. The last time he had sat at the right hand of his friend, they had also been preparing for battle, in a war that seemed unwinnable. Merlin had thought he wouldn't be coming out of it alive and it had seemed infinitely easier than what he was about to do.

"You all know that this kingdom has been plagued with one magical attack after another, but we have always prevailed." There were nods all round. Even those not old enough to have served under Uther when Arthur was still prince, knew there had been creatures and sorcerers with evil intent aplenty, Khilgarrah flinched slightly at the word attack. "What you did not know was that we had help, help that was given freely, with no hope or expectation of reward, help that could have seen the person who gave it dead, merely for having been born." There were deep frowns now, confusion, and still those glances of suspicion, that became more severe as some of the brighter sparks of the group made the connection.

"We, gentlemen have been under the protection of a powerful warlock who uses his magic for the good of the kingdom." There were the expected shouts of outrage, some jumped to their feet, hands on the hilts of swords, Leon, Elyan and Perceval had also risen ready to defend at a moments notice, It was everything Merlin had feared it would be, with one notable exception.

Sir Bedivere had not risen, had not shouted, had not in fact done anything except sit calmly and observe the proceedings with a small smile. Merlin worried about that smile it spoke of knowing something the others did not. Their reactions had been habitual in the face of sorcery, even if not very productive. Bedivere's didn't fit and he didn't like not knowing if he had somehow found his secret out and not said anything or had something else on his mind. Arthur must have seen it too as his next question was directed at him.

"Sir Bedivere, do you have something you would like to share?" The room became quiet once more as everyone turned towards the hapless man. The smile wiped off his face as if it had never been. The young knight looking slightly panicked now and Merlin had a sudden suspicion, an intuition, of what might be wrong. He focused and willed his senses out towards the younger man, and there hidden inside, a small spark.

Merlin's face bloomed into a genuine smile of relief and lowered his head to hide it not wanting to give too much away. This man also had magic. Not a lot at the moment, looked in fact like it had only manifested within the last year but he could tell that Bedivere would be feeling relieved that Arthur had taken the news of a secret magical protector so well. This might be one more ally in the fight for magic.

"Not at the moment sire." Arthur hadn't missed his smile either and kept looking between them, Merlin couldn't help but think that Arthur's observational skills had undergone a rapid change from abysmal to not so bad after all, there was hope for the prat yet.

"I know you all think magic is bad, evil, corrupting, but you have never seen the side to it that I now have. My eyes have been opened. My father was wrong on so many levels when it came to magic. It is a tool, like…like a sword…" Whatever Arthur was about to say was bitten off rather abruptly by Merlin's angry retort.

"Magic is NOTHING like a sword!" Arthur looked a little taken aback at Merlin's countenance. A sword was a perfectly good analogy he thought, until Merlin's next words when he realised perhaps he did not have the right qualifications to make that assumption.

"Magic is life and energy and power! A sword is a lump of metal crafted into a pointy article you whack and stab things with! Magic is like the sun, a great miasma of swirling energy that gives warmth and comfort and allows growth but can burn and consume. It is a breath of air that can grow into a hurricane. The gentle lapping of the waves that can bring peace and joy but also brings destruction as a tidal wave. It is the earth steady and strong and timeless but powerful enough to shake mountains. It is everything and nothing! Life, Death and the balance in between. And no matter how well crafted a sword might be, how familiar, or how much it feels like an extension of your arm. It is still inanimate and incapable of creation!" Merlin looked a little abashed at his own outburst.

"Trust you Princess to come up with an analogy of a weapon!" Gwaine's bark of laughter was rather explosive at so thorough a put down. Elyan's diverted grin couldn't compete.

"You've got to admit Arthur he has you there."

"I think that also answers the question of who our magical protector might be." Bedivere's amused statement brought it home to Merlin that he had just outed himself rather thoroughly, in front of a potentially hostile group of six knights, without the introduction by Arthur that may have smoothed things over. So he did what anyone else might have done in such a situation and hid his head in his arms on the table and groaned. Arthur, the dollopheaded prat just patted his back hard enough to bruise and laughed out loud at their dumbfounded expressions. Even Khilgarrah partially hid a smile.

"Merlin you idiot. I thought you were going to wait for me to tell them?"

"Sorry sire but you're trying to tell us Merlin is a sorcerer?" Sir Mostyn looked disapproving most of the time so it was hard to say if he actually did disapprove of Merlin's magic or if his face had just remained stuck after so many years.

"Oh no Merlin's not a sorcerer." The knights all seemed relived but still confused until gwain clarified his first statement. "He's a warlock." The accusations and shouts erupted once more and Merlin's head remained glued to the surface.

"Sire the law!"

"Magic sire, you know how it corrupts!"

"He will turn on us at the first opportunity. Think of Morgana!" On and on it went. Merlin tried to block it out, tried in vain to keep calm and not say anything as his friends tried to restore order. To remember that these men had been brought up on lies and the only things they had seen magic do **were** evil. But as each successive accusation, insult and call for his arrest and subsequent execution rang out, he found himself more and more angry until he snapped.

"ENOUGH!" Merlin's head had snapped up as had the rest of him and he was now stood, power and furious command radiating from every pore. The silence became deafening. Every eye locked with his.

"You see this, this right here," gesturing round at the belligerent knights, "This is why I don't tell people! You aren't reacting to the character of a person you have known for a decade, who has lied about ONE thing to protect themselves from not only a pyre but heartache. No you all automatically override everything you know about me in favour of what you THINK you know about sorcerers and their motives. You hate without knowing what it is you hate. There is no understanding of what a sorcerer is and so you condemn before you look at the person behind the power. You make judgements of what a person COULD do and take it as fact that they WILL do, without looking at what they HAVE done!

If a person is condemned enough for something they might do, don't you think Its only a matter of time before they snap and say 'what the hell I'm going to be punished anyway it might as well be for what I'm accused of'" Merlin looked around at his friends and the anger leached away, replaced by mortification at what he had just done. Everyone looked surprised, even Gaius and he had known Merlin the longest.

He sat down again. No longer able to keep the pain from his tone.

"Would it kill you to just listen before you convict without cause?"


	30. Chapter 29 And nothing but the truth

**A/N Arrrggghhh I'm finding these harder and harder to write. Bear with me though they will be written and posted as soon as I can do them. I warned you they may be sporadic.**

…

Chapter 29 And nothing but the truth.

"Tell us then? Tell us who you are?" Bedivere was all earnest attention. Accepting and ready to share in the intrigue, his face lit up like an overeager puppy. The others all wore varying degrees of anger, distaste and castigation.

"I am magic. I was born of, and with magic. There is no one else like me." There was a bone deep weariness in his tone, a resignation as if he knew in his heart that the knights would react badly and was prepared for it. "It's a sacred gift, but it can also be a curse." Sir Acton was now looking at him as if he had just sprouted three heads, each of which was spouting poison.

"All this time!" Arthur had held his temper well till now, these were his men. They had sparred together every day. He had believed them to be honourable, trustworthy and ardent in their pursuit of justice. That they would at least listen to what Merlin had to say and reserve judgement till they knew everything. He was at this moment in time so very disappointed in that belief. What honour, trust or justice were they showing to Merlin right now? Most of those present had known him almost as long as he had. Had ridden out with him when they had been searching for Morgana, had their injuries treated by him. Up until now they had always treated him with respect. But as soon as magic was mentioned their common sense and decency seemed to have flown and he was as dirt beneath their heels. He was rather aghast that he could have been so mistaken in their character.

"Sir Acton you **will** hear him out."

"So he can enchant me as he seems to have done to all of you?" They were all nodding vehemently. All six knights and Merlin's eyes widened at the accusation, he had half expected it hadn't he, so why did he feel so let down that it had in fact been levelled at him? Gwaine had risen. His sword half drawn before Leon put a hand over his. Whispering in his ear, calming him, nodding in Arthur's direction, obviously asking him to let them sort it, between them.

"I have **not! **That is an abuse of magic that I would not stoop to!"

"No he would not. You all know Merlin. Have known him for **seven** years. He has done nothing but save everyone time and time again, for no recognition. How many of you all would have done that?" Arthur's aura of command and complete control, was rather inspiring. The total trust in the sentiment behind the words even more so.

"Sire he has **lied** to you for seven years, how do we know he is not lying now?" it was one of the others Norris? Chandry? He wasn't quite certain.

"Do you think I wanted to lie? It's been killing me slowly for years having no one to confide in. knowing everyone thinks me a fool. Knowing that my whole existence here is based in something you have all been taught to hate. Everything I am, everything I do is for the good of this kingdom and to protect those I care for. They are my friends, my brothers, my destiny. For the belief I have in who Arthur is and what he will become. I was created for one purpose, To **protect** Arthur, the once and future king. We are, as several people have forcefully told me, _'two sides of the same coin'_, and yet I knew that if this ever did get out he might hate me." Merlin's eyes sought Arthur's trying to convey his heartfelt apology that he had ever thought that and his faith in the man he now knew him to be.

"Fortunately he is so much more than I ever gave him credit for and he has accepted me for who I really am because what he saw **was** real. It was just that I am also more than merely an entertaining idiot, who can't go more than ten steps without tripping over my own feet." His gaze now encompassed everyone, Gaius, his father figure, Gwen his sister and Khilgarrah his soul brother. Elyan, Leon, Perceval and Gwaine, who had become so much more than mere friends. "I am a physician's apprentice, a servant, an advisor, a protector, a friend and a farm boy from Ealdor with too much magic for my own damned good or my mother's peace of mind." This last was directed with a wry grin towards his friend and king. Arthur was just looking at him with such a mix of emotions they chased each other across his features, there was amusement, worry, a hint of anger and resentment towards his knights, a tinge of awe and one thing that stood out above all others, love. He looked at him like he would a brother it was exactly what Merlin felt for him. Merlin glanced around at his friends and realised they all had the same visage. It was quite the nicest thing Merlin had ever experienced. It gave him the courage to continue and he did so now without once looking at the other knights. Their opinions no longer mattered to him. What he now spoke of was for his family, a chance to show a little of what he had suffered, what he believed, and the code by which he lived. The knights were reduced to mere bystanders, even though his words were spoken in their general direction.

"I never asked for this power, possibly wouldn't have wanted it if I had the choice. But I was never given that choice. I have never known a life without magic as a constant companion. Used it before I even knew what it was, before I knew how much people feared it. All I had was the choice in **how** I used it. I realised long ago that magic was never meant to be used for personal gain, in the end it would only bring heartache to try. It should be shared, to help, to heal, to bring peace. **That** is what magic is for.

Choices define us. They are the key to what makes us who we are. That govern our behaviour and allow us to grow as people. If you ban magic for being evil, you automatically take away any choice of a person born with magic being considered good. The only options available when their power first manifest's is to do nothing and get caught when those powers become unmanageable, seek out a tutor who may teach them control but no understanding of the responsibility of power, or find someone who can teach both but then have to hide forever. To know the futility of having the power to make a difference to peoples lives, but be unable to act on it knowing it is illegal is heartbreaking." The quiet had descended once more but Merlin didn't look up. It might have been cowardly but he couldn't bring himself to find out if it was only because they had ceased to listen.

"You're a much braver man than I ever gave you credit for and for that I'm sorry. I'll stand by your side if you will have me, if you will all have me?" Bedivere's sincerity fairly shone. As he rose and made his way over to the warlock and held out his hand for the young man to take.

"You would side with him? Why? He is a sorcerer and power corrupts, he will turn on you." Sir Acton was nothing if not tenacious. The others now seemed unsure, as if the bottom had fallen from their world, and they were seeking ways to repair it.

"And you are a knight, who I thought encompassed the ideas of nobility and chivalry, it seems we were both mistaken. Besides, he is not Camelots only secret magical protector." Bedivere was looking at Merlin as he said it, something, some indefinable force shivered between them. "You know don't you?" Merlin just gave him an encouraging smile and nodded once. At this Bedivere turned towards Arthur. "My lord, I must make a confession, to the effect that I too may have magic. I also never asked for it sire, but during the last confrontation with Morgana. When we retook the city, a damaged wall fell. The edge of it would have crushed not only myself, but two injured men, I don't know how I managed to stop it but one moment it was falling the next it was not. I felt a burning sensation behind my eyes and extreme tiredness immediately following. The only way it could have stopped is if magic had been involved. I never told anyone for fear of what it meant, what I had done. The men were both unconscious at the time and the confusion meant no-one really noticed what had happened. So I kept it to myself. I've not used it since, I don't know how."

"Reactions to extreme stress are usually the first manifestations. It's tied to your emotions at this point, though it may never happen again." Gaius's tone was reassuring, and Arthur…well Arthur was gaping like a fish. Gwaine who was directly behind the young knight just gave him a slap on his back that nearly toppled him. "Ha bet you didn't expect that did you princess? Well done lad, it takes guts to stand for what is right in the face of severe opposition."

The other knights just stared. One of their own a sorcerer, how many others were there out in the ranks. Hiding away from the fear of what they could do, of what their friends could do to them. Khilgarrah just looked like a cat that had just made off with the best cut of venison, all feral toothy grin and smug, self satisfaction.

That of course made the fingers of suspicion fall to him.

"And who is this sire that seems to be so happy with Merlin's magic. Are you too a sorcerer? Are we now to be overrun with them?" Sir Acton's problem with magic was becoming annoying and rather dangerous if they couldn't nip it in the bud. All the others at least looked like they were now listening, even if still very wary.

"This is Khilgarrah, an ally and no he is not a sorcerer. He is here to consult about Morgana since he has been opposed to her for a long time." They had already agreed to keep Khilgarrah's identity secret not knowing how to explain the involvement of gods and dragon transformations.

"Then why is **he** happy about Merlin's magic. Morgana seeks the throne to bring magic back. Why would Merlin fight for us? What is there to say that he will not turn on us in the battle and fight for her?" Sir Tomas sounded more puzzled than hateful and Arthur hoped this was a sign that he would think about what was being said.

"I have never stood with Morgana and I never will. She is so full of hate. This war we fight is not about magic it is about justice and freedom and the right to exist in peace. Morgana uses magic as an excuse, she does not fight to help people she fights for vengeance against a dead man. One who was mistaken in his beliefs about us but still strove to do the best as he saw it. Morgana was against Uther and tried to kill him even before her magic manifested. Her magic did not corrupt her she was already there." Arthur's eyes widened at that. The knowledge that Morgana had been working towards his father's demise for so long was a harsh lesson, one that might just tip the balance. And the fact that Merlin hadn't hated his father to such an extent would probably work in their favour too. It certainly seemed to be getting through to them on some level.

"I have known the young warlock for a long time as I knew his father before him. He is the light to Morgana's darkness. His mercy and compassion are without equal even when they have done nothing but bring him pain, and I would always stand with him. Without him this world would be empty."

"This argument is leading us in circles gentlemen. Might I suggest that we concentrate on Morgana's plan. According to Merlin's spying we have three days to get the citadel ready for the attack. There will be at least 5000 men being brought to bear and we need to be ready. Magic will be fought with magic in this battle and Merlin will be that magic. You will treat him with respect and you will protect him so he can face Morgana. He is the only one with any chance of defeating her. If you harm him or breathe a word of what has been disclosed here today I will know it and I will bring the entire might of Camelot down on you." Arthurs eagle eyed glare rounded on the six knights who's loyalty was in doubt meeting each of their gazes and forcing nods of acquiescence. Acton still wasn't happy. Arthur would have words after the meeting. But even if they doubted Merlin they would do as their king requested and right now that was all Arthur needed. "What news of the preparations? Leon?"

"The walls were not as badly damaged in the last conflict and are mostly repaired sire though the south gate was badly damaged when we retook the city and is still somewhat weakened. The siege tunnels are not as far along as we could hope for many are still being restructured and Morgana knows those tunnels too well to leave. We would need a sizeable force to hold them."

"I might be able to do something about that Arthur. It wouldn't last for long but I could make the ceilings cave in on small ones that need to be sealed or create barriers across those that are too large to be blocked. Enough so it would give the invaders a hard time at least." It felt odd to be able to offer uses for his magic openly and have them taken seriously.

"Good. Leon, go with him after this and see what he needs. What about weapons?"

"The Southron's left a large though hotchpotch collection of weaponry behind, they have all been dumped in the lower store rooms. They aren't as good a quality as ours but they should be adequate for any volunteers. Cross bow bolts are plentiful right now because of the traditional spring equinox hunt we were due to host next month, arrows not so much. We made a list if you wish to go over it." Elyan handed over the detailed account.

"Very thorough, Elyan. Thankyou. Gwen, Gaius provisions and medical supplies?" "Agnes has been brought into the secret as has her nice Bette they have a score to settle with Morgana and are more than willing at the subterfuge. Agnes has the kitchen doing an inventory and stocking up on items using the hunt as an excuse. Everyone seems to have accepted it without question so far. Bette has even now commandeered one of the rooms in the lower levels of the west wing to store all the sheets and medicines for the infirmary. They have been placed in covered baskets so they can be moved at a moments notice. I know it isn't the usual practice but we thought it would be a better prospect than setting everything up somewhere people didn't know or could stumble over it by accident. This way all we need is a couple of hours notice and it is done. If there are any spies they won't notice any extra goods or activity that can't be accounted for by the hunt, until we are ready for everyone to know." Arthur's pride shone at the ingeniousness of it. Gwen truly had been busy and very clever in her choice of accomplices. He now turned towards Khilgarrah and Merlin.

"Is there anything else we should know, anything we may have overlooked?"

"Morgana is now allied with Odin and his troops are almost as well trained as your own though nowhere near as good as the knights. The commanders seemed reluctant to engage with them. I think she will try and take the knights out first, though that may just be what I think she will do. She likes to try and cause as much pain and damage as she can, so capturing you and delivering you to Odin in chains whilst the rest of us are killed slowly would be high on her list of priorities. As for the rest? She's impulsive. She is convinced she has gotten rid of the threat I pose to her whether she has made the connection between me and Emrys, I don't think it matters at this point. I don't think I should make myself known till she realises we are ready for her. It will prompt her to do something rash when she realises her plan failed. I need to strengthen the walls I think. When she realises the tunnels have been cut off she may try blasting her way through the front gates." Merlin's assessment of the situation was rather astute and Arthur marvelled that he had missed the strategist hidden beneath the foolish façade all these years.


	31. Chapter 30 Perhaps another time?

**A/N I have come to the conclusion that I am inordinately fond of details. I hope this does not prevent anyone from enjoying the story. If I'm getting too bogged down just let me know and difficult though it may be I will try valiantly to hold them back. **

**Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou! To the amazing people who have reviewed, favourited and become my story stalkers, your encouragement is just fabulous. **

…..

Chapter 30 Perhaps another time?

"Khilgarrah, she has Aithusa. Do you know how? He shouldn't be anywhere near her. I can't call him back from this distance and young as he is I don't think he would listen." Khilgarrah looked as if he had just been whipped, a flash of pain shooting across his mien and a determination took root to flush out the witch and do bodily harm. The anger in his voice could have been cut with a knife it was that thick. "No he would not. The bond does not develop fully for a couple of years at least. He was in my care and though it is the way of young dragons to explore on their own I believed him to be safe. We will get him away from her, there is no doubt of that, I will not allow her to influence him further." Everyone else in the room had faded from the consciousness of the dragon and his lord though they were then forcibly reminded of their presence when Sir Breon gave a strangled cry at the word dragon.

"Morgana has a dragon? And you wish to **save** it? She will use it to attack us, we need to kill it not save it!" Khilgarrah opened his mouth and roared out his reply.

"You will do no such thing! Aithusa is a mere hatchling and is to be protected at all costs." Arthur once again demonstrated his sleuthing skills by catching on quicker than anyone else, if this carried on Merlin would have to take a rapid reassessment of Arthur's mental acuity.

"The dragon egg. You saved it." It was pretty plain to see that although he wasn't altogether happy about yet another dragon running around the countryside, especially in the company of Morgana. He wasn't about to chew his ear off for it either and had come to understand that this was something his Dragonlord heritage had demanded of him. This was a whole new side to Arthur he had never seen before. He thought it rather suited him.

"I did. He is the hope of Albion. We have to rescue him, he's not even a year old yet and the more influence Morgana has over him the harder it will be to bring him back."

"I wondered why you were so dismayed at seeing him in Morgana's company. Oh Merlin we will get him away from her."

"Am I the only one who see's a problem with this statement. Have you all forgotten the dragon attack from a few years ago? Those creatures are dangerous, deadly and no amount of influence will make them more or less so. We only prevailed when Arthur slew the beast at great expense of life." Khilgarrah visibly flinched. Great good gods **why** did he have to be human right now? He hoped Amaethon was having fun. Having such a large laugh at his expense, to see the great dragon being regaled with stories of his own misguided mistakes and untimely demise, and being reviled as a heartless animal whilst sitting here as rational and remorseful as you please. No-one ever told him the god of magic had such a bloody odd sense of humour.

"Arthur never killed him."

"Wha…pardon?" Sir Perceval's look of pity was almost too much. Sir Breon was feeling decidedly out of his depth. He had felt so certain of himself this morning and, Morgana's attack not withstanding, had been hopeful of the day to come. It now felt as though the world had stopped spinning and yet he had carried on without it.

"Arthur never killed him. Merlin is the last Dragonlord and banished him on pain of death." Sir Breon's was not the only jaw to drop or groan to fill the chamber, in a pitiful show of distress. "It's a lot to take in. I know, it took us a while to process it that the king's servant is actually rather powerful and if he had wanted, could have taken this city apart with a sneeze." Here Perceval paused for dramatic effect. "The fact that in seven years he hasn't, I believe, says it all. Don't you think?" Trust Percy to come up with a pithy comment that says in just a few words what they had all been trying to ram down the knights throats all afternoon. That certainly gave them pause. Sir Acton was the only one now who looked actively mutinous. It seemed they had at last gotten through.

"The worlds gone mad! Dragonlord, sorcerer and you're keeping him This kingdom is going to hell in a handbasket. Next you'll be wanting to repeal the ban!" The whole of the round table perked up at this. "You're not serious?" Yes it seemed as if they were. "I want no part of this!" Perceval's narrow eyed gaze fell on the man and his next question just proved how shrewd he could be and why he had become a knighted commoner.

"Who did you lose?" Acton's jaw tightened noticeably and his fists clenched. Percy's assessment had been spot on it seemed. Arthur's mind whirled. Acton had been one of his father's knights, one of the oldest in this room, not that knights were usually all that old. There were not many who survived the rigours of knighthood long enough to be classed as such. But he had been knighted before Arthur had risen to the position, had been one of Arthur's mentors. He was an outspoken individual with an opinion on most subjects and right now he was not saying anything. That, Arthur thought, was more telling than if he had made a declaration that he hadn't lost anyone.

"Sir Acton. It would be in your best interests to answer Sir Perceval's question." Arthur's voice had gentled but the air of command remained, Acton hung his head. The pain radiating outward for all to see.

"My sister and her unborn child were to stay at our estate for the summer. My wife having invited her for the birthday celebration of our eldest son and to stay until the birth. She was so happy to get away from her own home, she had felt isolated, and was looking forward to the events we had planned. She was on her way to us when two fleeing sorcerers crossed their path. They threw the guards back and they hit my sister's horse, it spooked, reared and she fell from her horse. The guards with her carried her back but the babe never stood a chance and she miscarried. My sister never recovered and took her own life a year later when it was discovered the damage from the fall meant she also couldn't conceive again. They killed her, and the babe as surely as if they had stood over her with a knife." It was plain to see he would not easily forgive those with magic. His view of them would be forever tainted with his sister's tragic end.

"Morgaus's immortal soldiers killed my entire village. The only crime they had ever committed was to stand in their path. Men, women, children, they were all cut down where they stood. But the magic that was used to make those men immortal did not cut the villagers down. Cenred's men did. All the magic had done was to make it impossible to kill them. The village would still have stood no chance even without it. There were too many, thousands of soldiers against a hundred farmers." Perceval paused to let this sink in then carried on driving his point home. "From what you have just said the sorcerers were running, probably from persecution, probably desperate. The guards brought your sister home so they obviously didn't injure them too badly and they hadn't even aimed at your sister since by your own admission it was your guards own horse that had spooked your sisters' into making her fall. She made the choice to end her life not the sorcerers. It could just as easily been something else that had done it. It was a tragedy caused by circumstances beyond anyone's control, and though magic was involved yes, it did not directly cause it. To blame every sorcerer or warlock for your sister's death, would be as unjustified as myself blaming every soldier for mine." Acton's jaw was still somewhat tight but his fists had uncurled. Perhaps there was hope for the man yet.

"You all know now what you must do, keep myself or Leon informed of progress. I'm counting on all of you. You shall be my commanders in this conflict do not let me down."

The meeting wound to a close, its purpose fulfilled. The knights were mostly on their side barring reservations borne of both shock and a lifetime of lies being overturned in mere hours. And so they all gathered their orders and belongings and left with, if not happiness, at least determination.

"Bedivere stay I'd like a word." Gwen of course gave his arm a gentle squeeze in reassurance as she left.

"I'm assuming by your expression that you would like to pursue studying magic?" At this Bedivere's expression turned sheepish and just a little fearful.

"Only if you permit sire I…I want to help people, and if…if the ban is lifted I would like to help them with **everything** I have."

"Good god's man there's no need to look like I'm about to order your execution. If this is something you wish to do, you can do, only wait till the ban is lifted, I don't think I can deal with more stress right now, and having one of my own knights on trial for magic would be uncomfortable."

"Yes sire!" Bedivere's relief and hope were clearly written in his body language, and he left with a spring in his step. At least one of them was happy, well would be happy as soon as the ban had been lifted. He needed to speak to Geoffrey. Merlin of course remained trotting at his heels as he left the room. He wondered how long it would take Merlin to figure out he was not in fact heading to his chambers. Ah not long then!

"Where are you going?"

"WE are going to find a way to repeal the ban!" Arthur thought Merlin would be ecstatic. He had visions of him falling to his knees and thanking him profusely with tears in his eyes. What he did not count on was Merlin **grabbing** his arm in such a way it hurt and hauling him bodily into an alcove. Merlin was a little discomfited to realise it was the same one used by Morgana all those years ago to threaten him in, but needs must.

"Arthur you can't!"

"Why? I thought this was what you wanted?" Arthur had that intense look of concentration on his face that he usually reserved for when something completely inexplicable happened.

"It IS. But you cannot repeal the ban in the middle of a crisis. The councillors would rebel, your knights would be divided into those who know about me and have accepted it and those like Sir Dorral who was Uther's most ardent supporter. Think of Sir Acton! Most of the citizens think every magic user is just like Morgana. They have lived through so many crises caused by magic that if you just wave your hand and repeal it now there would be panic in the streets. It has to be done in stages so they come to really **see** what magic **is** not what they have been told and shown for nearly 30 years. It would be anarchy. Most of the council would be convinced you'd been enchanted, that was after all Sir Acton's first response. You cannot tell me his reactions are an isolated case."

Alright that had Arthur stumped. "You've really thought about this haven't you?"

Merlin gave a relived huff of laughter, he'd gotten through. He could see the signs of it in Arthurs face. "I've had seven years to think about it Arthur. All those who support you have waited this long we can wait a bit more. **You** have accepted me, the knights, Gwen! I don't need anything more. Bedivere doesn't need anything more, You **saw** his face back there when he realised he was no longer alone. It meant the world and you know it."

"Ha! You really are something else." Arthur's smile lit up his eyes and made him look far more boyish than usual. He firmly placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Everything would be just fine.

"Alright so what are we going to tell everyone? I can't have you running round a battlefield performing magic without some safeguards in place they would hang draw and quarter you without a thought." Ok maybe he spoke too soon.

"You're now **asking** for my opinion?" Arthur rolled his eyes

"Do you see anyone else in here? Of course I'm asking you. Turns out my fool of a manservant isn't such a fool after all!" Merlin's grin was so blinding it could have given the sun a run for its money.


	32. Chapter 31 Little things

**A/N These are just little things that I needed in here but didn't want them in the next chapter, hence the name.) **

**Merlin belongs as always to the BBC. I am however working on a plan to break him out. Anyone interested in helping should sign the official register of Wizard rescuers, if I can ever find it!**

**...**

Chapter 31 Little things.

Geoffrey was rather surprised at his late night visitor. Arthur hadn't been down to the library in an age. If the king had ever had need to see him he had always been summoned before.

"I need you to do something for me Geoffrey."

"Anything sire. You know I would."

"I want you to look into the laws on magic." Geoffrey's face must have shown his consternation as Arthur clarified. "Specifically I need you to look into why they were put in place, how they were and what I would need to do to repeal them. This is on a strictly need to know basis and no-one but myself, Merlin or Gaius need to know. I also want you to look into the lineage of the Dragonlord Balinor. Find out everything you can however small the details. That enquiry is for me only. Can you do this?" Geoffrey's curiosity had been aroused to such an extent he could not help but enquire.

"I can Sire but may I ask why? It seems a very sudden interest my lord. The last Dragonlord died five years ago surely the information I hold on him can hold no significance and the records from the purge were sealed by Uther."

"Facts have come to light of late that I cannot ignore. I mean to do something about it and that is all I will tell you on the subject. You have my permission to open the seals. Let me know what you find."

"I will." Geoffrey rose and bowed as the king strode from the room, but sat again heavily once he had left. A slow smile made its way across his features. Well, well, well, that was an unexpected turn of events. He only hoped it meant what he thought it did. He rose once more and shuffled down the passage to the east wing of the vast library to retrieve the texts from the purge itself.

…..

Leon had come looking for him. Reminding him that Arthur had wanted him to go down to the siege tunnels to look at what could be done to block them. He hadn't protested.

Arthur had already gone to the library to set Geoffrey on to the magic laws. If there was anyone who knew the laws of Camelot more than Arthur it was Geoffrey. They may not be able to repeal them yet but they could set the ball rolling into researching them. It would be a long drawn out process and the sooner they got started the better.

The fact that Arthur had been the one to suggest it, had in fact wanted to repeal them as soon as possible, meant the world to Merlin. Arthur was now listening to him, not that he hadn't before, but it was almost like he was now treating him like an equal. He was still technically Arthur's servant, that hadn't changed. Merlin had insisted that it not change. He was happy as Arthur's servant, and was in a perfect position to find everything out. But it was so refreshing to be taken as something other than a sometimes wise fool. Everyone had treated him better, since his awakening. Merlin could hardly credit the fact that it was just less than a full day since he had been informed everyone now knew. Who would have believed things could change so drastically in so short a time?

Leon had been a puzzle. His respect had always been there lurking in the background now it seemed to have ramped up a notch even as he kept glancing between Khilgarrah and himself with a look in his eye he couldn't quite distinguish. He had never been known as someone who could let a mystery pass him by, he had to say something.

"Thankyou. For being so supportive of my magic. I know it can't have been easy, but you have all been…more understanding than I ever thought you would be." Leon stopped and waited for Merlin to catch up turning to him as he did so.

"I've encountered magic before remember? The druids had no reason to heal me. I think I knew that what Uther did was wrong, but I never spoke up. Perhaps I should have." His tone was apologetic as if trying to atone for all the sins he had committed against Merlin's fellow sorcerers.

"No! You couldn't. Not with Uther. He wasn't entirely rational when magic was involved. You did what you had to. Uther believed he was doing the right thing. He thought he was keeping everyone safe. He was just like Arthur in the love he had for this kingdom. I just don't think he could separate individuals from the masses like Arthur can. That is why Arthur will always make a better king. He sees the bigger picture but can also see how important the little people are." Leon was giving him that glance again.

"What?"

"You've always been a bit of a mystery to me Merlin. The way you could get away with speaking to Arthur as you do. The way you always followed us even into dangerous situations. I thought now we knew you were a sorcerer, sorry warlock, that we would have figured you out. But you're more unfathomable now than you were before. There aren't many men I know who would be able to forgive as easily as you have. I thought you would have hated Uther."

"Oh don't make me out to be a saint. I hated what Uther did, but the man himself? I only pitied him. He had pushed everyone away, in a grief that could have been avoided if he had listened. But if he had Arthur wouldn't be here and I would have no destiny. The world works the way it does and I cannot change the past no matter my power, so I can feel sorry for Uther and Morgana to some extent for what the world has pushed her into, but I will always believe they could have done things differently if they had just thought about what they were doing. It is a lesson I have learned the hard way. I have made mistakes too and they haunt me, the difference is that I know the blame lies with me, the day I lose that I think, will be the day I become just like them."

"And that is why we trust you. You are a good man Merlin." With that Leon set off back down the corridor not realising how much those words had affected the warlock now hurrying to catch up.

…..

The sounds of workmen, clearing rubble and chipping stone could be heard long before they reached the end of the tunnel they were now following.

"Stop a moment Leon?" Leon gave him a look of enquiry but obligingly stopped.

"What do you need?"

"I just want to check something before we get to the men. I don't want them to see." Leon grinned at him, gesturing with his hand to go ahead.

Merlin stepped up to the wall and placed his palms on it fully, fingers splayed, whilst Leon moved off towards the men just in case some curious worker decided to drop by.

Satisfied he would be undisturbed, Merlin closed his eyes and uncoiled his senses, letting seeking tendrils flow out through his hands into the walls, roving down the corridor toward the noise, trying to find the cracks and crevices he could exploit and marking them with a touch of gold magic he would easily find later once the men had departed from the site. This tunnel was now prepared and more easily than Merlin would have thought. They could move to the next, and he wouldn't have to disturb anyone. Withdrawing his consciousness and magic from the walls left his hands tingling pleasantly, and Merlin shook them as he opened his eyes grinning at Leon again. "I don't need to be where the men are to figure out which ones can be manipulated."

"Hmmm. Handy."

"Yeah, didn't know I could do that. I've marked where I need to aim when I come down later to get the most efficient cave in. Shall we move on?" Leon just laughed. This would take a little getting used to, but at least Merlin was still being the same old Merlin.

…..

Gwen was waiting for Arthur when he returned to their chambers, placing her arms around him as he went to take off his sword belt.

"I'm so proud of you." Arthur returned the embrace enthusiastically.

"I can't think why." Gwen tilted her head up and pecked his lips daintily.

"Can you not? Merlin has always been your dearest friend, and now when he needs you the most you're finally showing it. I always knew there was more to you than met the eye."

"Well I thank you for the sentiment, but I can't help but feel that since it took someone else to tell us whilst he was dying no less that we have let him down somehow."

"You haven't, you know you haven't. He was so happy today. He lit up like a candle, and his magic…I've never seen anything like it. I never knew it could be beautiful."

"I think we all learned something new." Arthur's tone had turned melancholy. Gwen placed a comforting hand on her husband's cheek. He leaned into the touch as a cat might seek warmth. "Why did I never see? You remember when Gaius was kidnapped? He told me one day I would see, just how much people had done for me. I think…no I know, he was talking of Merlin. But I **didn't** see. It had to be pointed out. And this whole rigmarole with the god's being involved somehow, it's just…" Arthur didn't even know where he was going with the last statement. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought of divine beings playing with their lives.

"I know. I'm not sure Merlin's very enthusiastic about them either if it helps." Arthur gave a lopsided smile at that.

"It does actually. If Merlin's not happy…I'm happy." Gwen hit him. Then again and ended up giggling in Arthur's arms as he scooped her up to deposit her in the middle of the bed skirts flying every which way as he literally threw her. Her laugh echoing down the hall, as he joined her on the quilt.

…..

Mira walked down to the leather workers shop with her weekly report, anticipating the lecture she would receive for the false information she had given her uncle before.

The manservant had collided with another, hit his head, and had been spouting nonsense. The boy who had crashed into him had confirmed it. The king had been negotiating the exchange of horses with a foreign merchant who happened to be Gaius's friend and that is why Arthur had been in the physician's chambers. The Queen and knights preparing for the equinox hunt.

She had known when her uncle had asked her to do this that she would be horrible at it. Her imagination too wild, seeing conspiracies where there were none. She would ask him to release her from it, so she could go home again.


	33. Chapter 32 Stubborness and care

Chapter 32 Stubbornness and care.

All the tunnels had finally been marked and Leon had dropped the now stumbling Warlock back to his chambers. It seemed the young man was not as fully recovered as he had seemed earlier that day despite his protests to the contrary. Gaius and Khilgarrah both eyed him with concern when he came through the door, once again practically draped over a knight's shoulder.

"Dare I ask what he's done now?"

"I didn't **do** anything!" Leon ignored him and answered Gaius anyway. Merlin directed a glare of rather fierce proportions at the traitor.

"We were in the tunnels. He had his hands against the walls, like he has been doing most of the evening, and sending magic out. He just slumped after the last one." It had been quite tiring just walking round the miles of tunnels under the castle let alone trying to do…whatever Merlin had been doing with his magic as well as. Leon wasn't at all surprised that he was now flagging. "I think he just overdid it again and is now exhausted."

"I'm fine Gaius. I slept most of yesterday, had a decent night's sleep last night and had a nap this morning. I have no idea why I'm still so tired."

"Couldn't be anything to do with you almost dying, having an emotionally trying day and then performing quite a lot of magic this evening. Oh no that might be too much to expect." Gaius's sarcasm wasn't particularly welcome right now, when the warlock just wanted to be left alone. "You have to give yourself chance to recover from injuries, or you will just make yourself worse. And don't look at me like that Merlin you were injured by that curse, just as surely as if you had been struck by a mace." Merlin winced and clutched his shoulder at that. Clearly remembering what it had felt like for his collar bone to crack under the force, before Morgana had healed him. Ever stubborn he couldn't help but defend himself about his magic usage.

"That was not a lot of magic, no power at all. All I did was literally leave markings to give me targets to aim at. We never touched on the tunnel cave ins themselves I'm to do that later. I've performed more complicated spells in my sleep."

"But you still had to direct it, and that takes concentration, which may not seem like it takes much energy but it does. I'm assuming from your hand being in your hair yet again that your headache is back?" Merlin now just looked sheepish. Gaius handed him yet another small bottle of headache remedy, and knowing from experience how awful it tasted he downed it in one. Only realising after he did so that it was in fact one of those that would knock him out.

"That was sneaky. I don't have time to sleep now there is too much to do, the tunnels and the gates, and…" Gaius and Khilgarrah both looked exasperated.

"It's only been one day Merlin. Allow yourself to **rest**!" Merlin's eyelids started to droop and Khilgarrah helped him lay back against the pillows as his deep soothing voice chased him into unconsciousness with fond vexation.

"You will be of no help in the coming battle if you do not young warlock. You are too stubborn for your own good. I remember telling you something similar when you were in my care after the Serket's. You were determined to get back. I had to make you sleep then against your will. And as I also told you then theses things take time!"

"Got my own back, you had to carry me!" Merlin's words were slurring as he slipped into slumber, but the cheeky humour shone through none the less. "Never had so many people worried about me before!" His last thought before he succumbed was that Gaius was becoming altogether too fond of drugging him into oblivion.

With that he was off. Leaving three people with the realisation that Merlin had inadvertently revealed just how lonely he could be. Even as his statement had been in jest it had still held a hint of sadness. Leon wondered, not for the first time, just how long it had taken for the happy young boy of seven years ago to disappear into the almost cynical young man of now.

He had noticed the change, he wasn't so unobservant that he had missed the less frequent smiles and the air of calm he now knew was a mask to hide his terrible burden. He had just thought it was a sign he had grown up. The energetic seventeen year old, slowly morphing into a more mature twenty four. He had not however perceived that his shoulders had slumped more or the almost constant jittery worry when anything seemed to threaten the city. The aura of exhaustion and dejection he projected. That seemed to hang from him like a cloak at times, especially when Lancelot had sacrificed himself and then returned. In fact none of that had been at all prominent enough to take note of until Gaius's pronouncement of his magical nature and the stories that probably never even scratched the surface of the horrendous war he had been battling, practically alone for seven years. It would be enough to break a lesser man. It looked for all the world like it had come very close to doing so with Merlin too.

Leon couldn't help but feel that for all the seriousness of the situation, the agony that would come when Morgana made her move, and the ordeal Merlin had so far had to endure in this latest scuffle. That it had at least opened their eyes and hearts to the young man's struggles and the possibility of their now offering aid when he needed it.

It was in that moment that Leon recognised how good an actor Merlin could be when it came to his own pain, and also came to the conclusion that he would do almost anything to stop him burying it once more. Camelot needed Merlin whole, and he would do his utmost to keep him that way.

…

Sir Bedivere was ambushed in the armoury.

Sirs Elyan and Gwaine having decided that as their newest member of the magical protection society (Gwaines idea), they needed to take Bedivere out to celebrate. Bedivere was understandably wary. Knowing Gwaine's penchant for heavy drinking sessions that others tended to end up paying for merely because he ended up passing out before any coins could change hands. The money would always end up back in the payers possession once Gwaine sobered again (or at least became less drunk enough to wake up), true but the initial layout for the bills could be hefty, and finding that kind of cash on short notice was a little harsh when you weren't expecting it.

It was also possibly not the best thing for the knights to be doing whilst they were secretly preparing for a siege that could get them all killed. He had of course reminded them that their duty should come first, flattered though he was that they were not reacting badly, and had even gone so far as to overlook the fact that he was hardly that great a magical protector since all he had managed thus far was to keep a wall from falling on three men. But they had insisted they had to do something, and realising this was perhaps more for his unwitting help in turning the other knights into accepting Merlin a little easier, rather than his own less than sterling magical achievements, he relented.

He would most likely regret this in the morning once his pounding head allowed him enough respite to realise how much lighter his purse now was. But right now he couldn't help feel that the whole world had just opened up before him, and it was actually rather nice to have a talent that could have previously gotten him killed. Living with that secret for three months had been hellish, so he could only wonder at Merlin's having done so for life.

…..

Khilgarrah couldn't fathom why anyone would wish to stay inside to sleep. Caves were preferable true when the wind and rain were howling so fiercely that even a dragons hide felt waterlogged. But on a night like this where the balmy spring breezes and twinkling stars called to him, it would have been a crime to stay indoors. Not that he enjoyed the confines of the castle anyway, it was all the dragon could do not to walk out of the meeting earlier and run back up to the battlements once more to feel the wind. It had been stifling, and made his skin crawl with the need to be outdoors, a souvenir no doubt of his time in captivity under this self same city.

And wasn't that an irony. To be here now, involuntarily, and offering aid to the same people he had not so long ago tried to kill, it was…unusual. The young Pendragon was not what Khilgarrah had expected, and certainly nothing like his father. He was becoming increasingly gratified that the Gods had taken a keen interest in the welfare of his lord, and that they had found some way around the prophesy, he cared for the warlock, possibly even more than he had Balinor and theirs had been an unusually strong bond. He would not wish him harm.

And that just brought Merlin's stubbornness in the face of extreme illness to mind. That stubbornness would help him in the long years to come but it was an acutely annoying trait to deal with in a patient who needed to heal. He would do neither himself, nor his charges any good by collapsing just as he was needed to protect. He would need to realise and soon that he now had others he could lean on for support. Just as they now knew how much he could support them.

He had to hand it to the man, Gaius was more crafty than he gave him credit for, and a more patient one if dealing with Merlin on a regular basis was anything like today. He only knew Merlin from his many trips for advice and aid, and even then the dragon could see he was a handful. To interact with him daily would be enough to drive anyone mad.

Perhaps, and Khilgarrah admitted this only begrudgingly, Amaethon and Frige had the right idea after all.

…..

Danis was sceptical of Mari's belief she had been wrong before, even though it had all been rumour and speculation it had had a ring of truth that these new pieces of information seemed to lack even as they fitted better. It wouldn't be prudent to send another raven retracting the information without being completely sure. It hadn't after all been the first time that Merlin had been associated with magic.

He sent Mari back to the castle with instructions to be extra vigilant, They had to be sure of this. His wife and children's lives depended on it.


	34. Chapter 33 Lineage

**A/N The battle is coming I promise I just need to set some more little bits up that are needed. Anyway hope you like.**

**IDNOM.**

…**..**

Chapter 33 Lineage.

"Rise and shine!"

A groan was the only response.

"Come on clotpole do I have to do everything around here?"

"G'e wey." A laugh.

"Very intelligent. You'll really convince people there's more than one brain cell lurking in that head of yours with a response such as that." The foot sticking out from the end of the bedding was given a hard yank. "I brought food!" Two blue eyes slowly opened and looked at the blurry form of the king hovering at the foot of his bed in obvious confusion.

"Arthur?"

"The very same. Come on we have work to do." The boyish eagerness could hardly be contained. The warlock was dizzy from the after effects of being drugged with one of Gaius's truly heinous concoctions and his brain was taking a little while to catch up. "Clotpole's my word." The warlock placed an arm over his eyes to shield them from the sunlight, and then just as quickly removed it again, sitting up as he did so. "Your up! And dressed!" Arthur plonked a tray across his knees. "And you brought me breakfast?! Why? I thought that was my job?" Merlin was almost whining by this point.

"It's more like lunch, you've been asleep a while. Idiot you should have told me you weren't fully recovered yesterday." Merlin automatically checked the position of the sun through the window and realised it was indeed later than he had thought. Damn Gaius and his terrible tasting potions. He had to admit though the awful tiredness of last evening had now mostly gone. He would know more once the effects of Gaius's sleeping draught had worn off fully, and he didn't feel so fuzzy headed. "Thought you said I wasn't such a fool after all. But my reckoning you've called me idiot more times now than you did before you knew of my magic."

"Oh you aren't such a fool. But you are an even bigger idiot. You'd have to be to stay in Camelot as long as you have, with magic no less." Arthur was making jokes about his magic now?

"You're cheerful. And you still haven't told me why you're acting like my servant. I don't like the role reversal, it's not normal."

"I am capable of doing everything myself _Mer_lin it's just easier and quicker when I have help. And breakfast is my way of making sure you eat, whilst we talk."

"Wonderful more talking." Arthur's eyes held a twinkle Merlin wasn't too sure about, he was up to something. It was the kind of mischievous sparkle that usually preceded Arthur reverting to prat, and sending him off to do something truly disgusting. Merlin never trusted Arthur when that particular glint appeared. He warily took a bite of the breakfast fit for a king and wondered how Gaius could have thought it a good idea to leave him at the tender mercies of his friend.

"I went to see Geoffrey yesterday about the laws." Merlin paused in the act of biting a sausage, wondering where this was leading.

"I know. You actually listened to me for once. Thankyou for that."

"I listen, all the time. I just don't always follow the advice you give." Merlin just snorted almost inhaling his next bite. That was an understatement. "I also asked him to do something else for me." Merlin perked up at that his inquisitiveness aroused.

"I didn't expect him to find anything so soon. Just goes to show how dedicated Geoffrey can be." The half smile on Arthurs's face was too contrived he was deliberately pulling this out slowly, enjoying torturing his servant.

"Are you planning on telling me, or am I to die of old age before you get to the point?"

"I only looked into it because of something Khilgarrah said." _Something the dragon had said?_ Merlin was now extremely curiously, confused. What on earth could Khilgarrah have told Arthur that would prompt said king into recruiting the archivist to do some secret research?

"Did you know that your father was a noble?" And there it was. The prat had been looking into his father? "He was apparently related to half the noble families across both Caerleon and Camelot." Merlin's food lay forgotten. Unwilling to miss any little tidbit the king and Geoffrey had dug up. His eyes like saucers and his mouth gaping.

"How?" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Well Merlin since you've obviously never had the talk about the facts of life, let me enlighten you. When a mummy noble and a daddy noble…" Merlin threw the bread roll. "Dollop head that is not what I meant. How did you know? To look? How did you know to look?" The babbling had risen to new heights it seemed, Merlin blamed it on being completely blindsided. This he had not expected. Arthur gave him a fond look.

"Khilgarrah. I asked him why my father turned against the Dragon's and Dragonlord's."

"I'm sorry that can't have been an easy conversation but I can't see…" Merlin trailed off at Arthur's look of exasperation.

"You never shut up do you? Khilgarrah had mentioned that the Dragonlord's were advisors, peacemakers, and most of the monarch's I know would never accept an advisor who was not of noble birth. It made sense that Balinor would have been a noble. Not landed I grant you. It was more an honorary title from what Geoffrey implied but still. Your full name is Lord Merlin Ambrosius. Head of the house of Ambrosius. You even have a crest somewhere in those dusty books of Geoffreys." Merlin couldn't speak. He had tears in his eyes **again**, he would become dehydrated at this rate. Two days and he had never cried so much in his life before. Maybe Arthur was right and he really was a girl. He had a name. He had a family. And Arthur had found them for him, from a random comment made by a Dragon! Ye gads his mother would have a fit! And then a thought intruded that had Merlin frantically searching out the eyes of his King.

"Your not asking me to step back from being your servant are you?" Arthurs look of disbelief was rather telling. He **had** expected Merlin would just want to stop serving him.

"I **want** to be your servant. I got the position through saving your life, an effort that was all my own. I didn't **earn** the title, and if it means not being able to serve you I don't want it."

"Merlin you don't have to give it up if it's what you prefer. I just thought you would want to know about your father, and I thought you might like serving me in a slightly different capacity. Say on the council, as my first advisor? And **not** because you already are a noble, but because I have been trying to think of better uses for your talents since before all this started. The fact that you are already a noble from a long line of gentry just makes the transition easier if you do decide to take it up." Merlin's fierce visage softened. It was an amazing feeling to be appreciated. To know your efforts were paying off, and Arthur was giving him the choice of whether to acknowledge his heritage.

"Wait I can't take it up anyway. My parent's were never married." It was a nice dream whilst it lasted but Merlin had to be a realist and even he knew the laws regarding the bastard son's of nobility. But even here Arthur managed to surprised him, handing him a rolled parchment with a smug grin.

"Actually they were! It seems, the oh so proper Geoffrey, and Gaius have been conspiring for years. I never realised how devious those two could be. They snuck the marriage lines into the records before they were sealed. I'm not entirely sure if Geoffrey knew that Balinor was your father, before I looked into this, but I think he does now. As soon as he saw the name of your mother, on the records I think he put two and two together. I think you have yet another ally there. They seem to be coming out of the woodwork at the moment." His parents were **married**? How? When? Did it really matter at this point? He wasn't a bastard. His father had married his mother. It had been a contentious issue for him when he had been growing up not only for himself and the taunts that had followed him through childhood, but his mother had deserved better than the title of a fallen woman. He knew when Gaius had told him about Balinor that he had flown only to protect them and had truly believed they would have married if circumstances and Uther's hatred hadn't interfered. Now to find that his father **had** protected his mother fully, was a joy.

"Arthur I…thankyou!"

"Whether you take the title or not your voice will always be heard. There is no man who can take you to task for speaking out again." Arthur's voice held the apology he should have given him for his treatment after he accused Agravaine. "You are as high in the hierarchy of Camelot nobility as every other noble of this court. They cannot gainsay you." Arthur's serious demeanour also highlighted the importance of his next statement. "I also had an idea. I wanted to set up a commoner's council. To have a voluntary representative, from each of the districts of the city, to give the people a voice. You showed me how little the people are heard. I wish to change that. I would like you and Guinevere to lead it. You both have ties to the common people and to the nobility, I know you would give their concerns the consideration they deserve. I mean to implement it when we move them to the citadel. If it works as I hope it will, it will neatly avoid the need for the nobility to interfere." Merlin laughed at the implications. It would start as a temporary crisis council, and end as a fait accompli. Arthur could be rather devious himself on occasion.

"**That** is a very good idea." Arthur beamed.


	35. Chapter 34 Shields and magic

**A/N Thank you once again to Meri ley for her lovely review. I hope everyone likes this. Lots of magic in this one, I'd like to think it captures the essence of Emrys. **

**Once again I don't own Merlin, he would love it if I did, hint hint. I think the BBC are ignoring me yet again. Sigh.**

…..

Chapter 34 Shields and magic.

Merlin firmly believed that everyone had decided to throw as much emotional upheaval at him as they could just to see if he could cope.

He did briefly wonder what on earth would happen if he couldn't, and ended as a nervous, shivering, wreck, rocking back and forth in a corner, since he was supposed to be out there protecting them all from the threat of Morgana.

He would blame the gods he decided. This was after all their fault. He just had to hope they knew what they were doing and have some plan in place for the fall out if Merlin did happen to succumb.

All this happening at once couldn't possibly be good for ones health, or for the concentration needed to cast powerful magic. Especially if said magic was to be performed in somewhat full view of Camelot without attracting notice. Ah well Merlin had come to the conclusion long ago that his life would never be easy. Right now though, was just bordering on ridiculous.

Elyan, Leon and Perceval were to be his guards and shield for this little endeavour. Guards in case of any untoward circumstances, (because lets face it this was Camelot, Merlin was a warlock and the two together just spelled trouble), the shield because no matter where you were on the wall it was always overlooked. The three men crowding round him would hopefully block a direct view of the shielding spells he needed to cast on the gates and vulnerable walls, and he hoped that as they were all his friends no-one would find it too strange to see him being surrounded.

"Are you sure you're up for this? You did almost faint again in the tunnels yesterday."

"I did not almost 'faint' I was just tired. I've now had more sleep in two days than I normally have in a week. Gaius has cleared me to do this and it needs doing, so I'm going to." Elyan couldn't resist at that, it had been far too long since he had been able to tease him.

"Well if you do decide to take an unexpected nap again we'll have Percy here carry you." He patted Percevals arms. "After all he's gotten used to that recently." They laughed, loudly. Merlin was not amused, much, it wasn't harsh teasing after all and Arthur had already taken great pains to fill him in on the delights of hauling his unresponsive body round the countryside. It was actually reassuring that they still treated him as something like an annoying younger brother, and not just as some all powerful figure. So the smile and small chuckle that bloomed were genuinely appreciative.

…..

The south gates didn't look weak. In fact if you didn't have the magical senses Merlin had, or the keen eyes of an experienced city defender such as Leon they looked as strong as they had always been from a distance. But the stone was cracked with new hairline fractures that would get larger and more prominent as the weather and the seasons took their toll and considerably more fragile as a result. It could no longer withstand a major assault without either months of hard labour to repair it, or a little magical help. They didn't have time for the first but the second, the second they could do.

Arthur had done his part by rearranging the guard roster to be disrupted somewhat. The men assigned to the next shift delayed enough to allow Merlin to do his work. Elyan and Leon had dispatched the other guards telling them there had been a slight delay and they would watch whilst they went home. The guards of course were exceptionally grateful their commanders had thought of their discomfort at having to wait for their beds after being up all night and strode off without protest.

Merlin and Perceval then followed them into the small guardhouse attached to the gate and made for the inner walls.

"I don't know how long this will take exactly as I'm not sure how bad the damage is. It could be worse inside than we can see, so if I'm stood here for a while don't panic." Merlin said it jokingly with a half smile and was answered by the knights own grins.

"We'll protect you from the big bad guards if it takes too long." Who knew Perceval had such a mischievous side. Merlin laughed and stepped up to the stones, his eyes flashing gold as his hands brushed over the fissures he could see, seeking out how deep they were and how far down they went.

"_**Hālian burggeat." **_Merlin's voice deepened and filled with power as he commanded the dressed stones to heal themselves.

It shook the knights. They had seen him perform magic only in the council chamber and he had only whispered his spell then, a playful bit of nonsense meant only to entertain. This made them all realise that Merlin was every bit as much of a defender as they were and though he didn't wield a weapon you could actually see until the results presented themselves, there would be few men who could stand against him.

The visible cracks decreased slowly, filling with gentle gold, as Merlin continued to stand and stare almost hypnotically at the wall. It was rather unnerving that after that one incantation, what would have been months of labour by skilled craftsmen, was being done in just minutes by a skinny, pale faced, youth. There wasn't much to see, was in fact very little visible in what he was doing, but the knights couldn't stop staring at him and his faintly glowing hands resting lightly on the chamber wall.

When he finally did step back the faint lines from where the cracks had been were still there but when Leon made to brush his hands over them trying to work out why Merlin hadn't repaired them fully. Merlin stopped him with gentle words.

"They're superficial. Had to leave the evidence of the destruction, the guards would have noticed something wrong if I hadn't. The damage itself however is no longer there. They'll stand for a good few years yet, even with Morgana." Merlin patted the stone almost fondly and turned to the exit leaving three stunned knights behind.

…..

Still feeling perfectly energetic even after repairing the gate. Merlin decided to get the rest of his magical defences in place. If he were to collapse again because his body gave out (not his magic, even yesterday he could tell his fatigue was nothing to do with the strength of his power), he wanted it to be now when he knew he would have a chance to rest once more before the battle. The tunnels would need to be done later after the workmen left for the night, and Merlin cursed his frailty that he couldn't do so last evening. For now he would create the shield he needed to imbue the walls with.

It was something he had been thinking of for a while. Ever since Morgana last arrived on their doorstep and took over the city. He knew it couldn't have been done when Arthur was still unaware of his magic he wasn't unobservant enough to have missed the walls themselves repelling invaders, and it wouldn't be powerful enough to keep Morgana out for long but probably would buy them time enough to do considerable damage to the enemy forces before they did break through.

Merlin honestly didn't know if this would work, the shields he knew of took a lot of power to maintain, but Merlin had come across several that had made use of vessels, much like Morgana had been for the sleeping sickness. He had spent hours looking through and modifying them and was hopeful that since Camelot was built with magic that the walls themselves could become an anchor of sorts, meaning that although the outlay of power he would need would still be huge, it would take nothing further to maintain. Thus freeing himself and his magic up for the actual fighting, he hoped.

The evening bells had not yet rung but the afternoon was swiftly waning as Merlin and his small entourage made its way along the ancient battlements. The gaps in the crenellations gave a perfect view across the tree encrusted valley and Merlin knew the next time he came up here there would probably be an army encamped amongst the oaks and elms. He savoured the peace for a few precious moments knowing that they would be very scarce in the dark days to come. Then he turned back to his friends with a smile.

"Now this one you probably will have to catch me!" Leon's look of alarm mirrored the other knights.

"What do you mean by that? Arthur will kill us if you come to harm." Merlin couldn't help but giggle slightly.

"I only mean that these walls are a wee bit bigger than a gatehouse. It will take quite a bit more power. I'll probably feel rather dizzy for a while after and need to sit down." Merlin immediately regretted his levity once he realised how serious the other knights looked. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to people knowing about my magic. I will be fine trust me. I do know what I'm doing It's just…more area than I usually cover with a shield so it'll be disorienting. I really didn't mean to sound like I wasn't taking this seriously." They all relaxed slightly. Merlin should have guessed they would be concerned, they still weren't used to this side of him yet.

He wondered how long it would take them to be fully comfortable with his capabilities, instead of instinctively seeing the slightly more helpless Merlin of old. He sighed and turned away leaning his arms along the thick stone wall. It would give him more purchase when the rush of magic flew out. Once again he sent his senses out into the stone. This time down, down, down into the foundations, to the wellspring of magic Camelot was built upon.

It was deep, deeper than he had thought, and very old, older even than the stones themselves. Did the ancient builders know they had placed their city on a convergence of ley lines? He couldn't help but wonder if this might explain the reason so many magical creatures were drawn to the city. No matter this just made things simpler, the words of his carefully crafted incantation flowing from his lips like honey, concentrating on his intent to use the vast walls to anchor the magic he called from the earth.

"_**Gamol **__**scinnlāc**__** āweccan **__**forstandan **__**ætspringan**__** þā wāgas." **_The wave of power that rose from the ley lines and flowed through him, like molten lead should have been too much even for him. It was so much more than he had anticipated. It twisted and writhed, attempting escape. It was all Merlin could do to hold it. His strength was being severely tested, but surprisingly after what felt like forever just fighting to keep it steady, he reached down within his core and discovered his untapped reserves. The magic of Camelot was still bucking and wild but now his own magic wrapped around it, gentling it, twisting it into ropes and vines that crawled along the surface with invisible tendrils shaping a web of protection that covered the whole of Camelot and left a shimmer of gold and a tingle along his nerve endings where his naked skin brushed the limestone.

Pushing it back down was, if anything, even worse. It struggled in his grasp, almost as if it were alive. He wrestled with it grabbing anything that tried to wriggle out of his reach slowly but inexorably pulling it back within the confines of the ley lines flow. Once there it couldn't move back, trapped, and Merlin learned to breathe again. Knees and forehead now resting on the cold hard stone.

He couldn't move. **Why** had he felt this was a good idea? Oh the protection was now in place and he was glad of it, but he could have done with a little more warning as to what he would find down there. Did anyone know how much raw force they were sat on? There were two major lines along with several minor ones, he hadn't even realised that until it had slammed into him. Surely someone should have made a note of it. This place was as powerful in its own right as the isle of the blessed. He would need to speak to both Gaius and Khilgarrah, and see what on earth he had stumbled upon. Right now though he needed to find a way to get up. He couldn't stay here forever and he needed to eat.

He slowly became aware of the knights calling his name and shaking his shoulders. Slowly, and with great effort he turned his head to see Elyan's dark eyes full of worry and self recrimination, glaring at him. His gentle hands roving, checking him over for any injury he may have incurred when his knees buckled. "I'm fine."

"Clearly!" Leon was very angry. And if Elyan and Perceval's expressions were anything to go by, so were they.

"No I am really. Just a bit shaken. There was more magic down there than I expected is all. I'll be fine once I get my breath back." He was feeling decidedly wobbly and just needed a few minutes peace to get his bearings. Unfortunately three very overprotective knights were not inclined to give them to him. He sighed once more and rose to his feet shivering slightly in the sudden chill from the early evening air.

"I am not hurt, or injured or even very tired. It was just a bit of a surprise to find so much power lurking in the foundations. I wasn't expecting it. I only need something to eat and a seat somewhere warm, I'm fine!" They finally relented, if only so they could escort him back to Gaius and regale him with tales of how worried they had been.

Merlin couldn't work out which was worse, being constantly dismissed and thought to be useless, or being smothered with solicitude.

…..

**A/N Spell translation.**

**1) Hālian burggeat – heal gates of city.**

**2) Gamol ****scinnlāc**** āweccan ****forstandan ****ætspringan**** þā wāgas – Ancient magic awaken rush forth defend the walls**


	36. Chapter 35 more than meets the eye

**A/N I hope I haven't lost anyone by this point. It will get more and less complicated as it goes along as some issues will resolve and others twist a bit more. Everyone who comes on the journey is I hope loving it and I promise if I can pull the ending off the way I want to you will never have had a story like it. He he! I'm getting very excited now. I need to know if I can write this to be as thrilling as I hope. **

**As ever, all your reviews are wonderful, and help keep me focused and moving ever onward, so I thank you.**

…..

Chapter 35 More than meets the eye.

One more day!

Gwen was outwardly calm, she had to be as queen. To keep the panic and the worry from her subjects the secret must be kept. It did not matter that she was rolling linen bandages in the quiet of the west wing where there was no-one around at this point. If she did not keep up the pretence in private there was no way she would remember to do so where there were people to see.

And it **was** a pretence. One of the highest order, for inside, oh she was in a constant state of dread. Morgana was a force to be reckoned with and though Gwen now knew that Merlin was there to be their shield, she could not help being so very afraid for the people. Merlin was one man, and he shouldered so much responsibility. She hated to think she was adding to his burden even involuntarily. So she wrapped bandages, and packed food stores and hung strings of fabric across the caverns below to mark temporary living quarters. All so she could appease her guilt that she was a party to a secret war that her commoner friends were not yet expecting, and may not survive.

She had been to see Merlin twice now since he was cured of the curse. But each time he had been asleep, his exhaustion showing plainly even as he snored. She would go and see him again today. Hopefully this time he would be awake enough for her to thank him. There were too many specific instances she could think of that he must have helped with, that she could do no less. Her father's miraculous recovery, and his almost dying whilst contriving a way for **her** to be saved from the pyre just being two of many.

She needed to know he would be alright.

…..

Khilgarrah had been uneasy at Merlin's description of the power held under the citadel. As far as he was aware there were no ley lines even running under the castle let alone converging, and from what Merlin had mentioned it was a major confluence. It had not been there whilst he was held, and certainly not for as long as Merlin was sure it had been. Even now he was unable to sense it. Why couldn't he? And more to the point where had it come from? There was no doubt in the dragon's mind that it was exactly as Merlin portrayed, but it disturbed him that he seemed to be the only one to have felt it, or found it. It was a sinister puzzle he really wished he had the answers to.

…..

Gwaine had been at the tavern again. Though he thought Arthur might be rather proud of him on this little trip. He hadn't drunk more than two flagons of ale all evening. He wasn't worried that the barkeep would spill the supposed unusualness of his not drinking. He came to this establishment for two purposes. The first was his recreation time. The second however was completely separate.

The barkeep knew the difference of course being in his pay to keep up the pretence. When he ordered mead, he was there to drink. When he ordered ale however, the man knew to keep it well watered and turn a blind eye if he became rowdy. That was when Gwaine became Camelot's unofficial watcher. Men would say a lot of things in front of a well known drunk who so obviously never remembered what had been said. It was a self appointed task and he was very good at it.

This evening he had learned rather a lot about a certain leather worker on the edge of the merchants district who always seemed to know more than he should, and was more prosperous than his business warranted. Perhaps he was mistaken, and perhaps not, but it would justify an investigation in his opinion and he knew just the lad to send in.

…..

Arthur was finding it increasingly difficult to carry on as normal. George was driving him up the wall with his incessant brass jokes. Seriously how many could there **be** about the metal? It did not help that George delivered them in such a matter of fact manner, and then waited for an age before resuming his litany of the chores he had now completed. As if that were the time he had set aside for Arthur to laugh, and since he hadn't he would just have to work harder to find one where the king **would** find it funny. He would be waiting a long time.

The council sessions were the worst. Grain reports, taxes and the need for better roads into the city were all important, he knew that. But overshadowing everything was the knowledge that in just a matter of days, they would have an enemy camped on their doorstep.

He needed Merlin by his side again. It was strange to realise that he was in the citadel somewhere pretending to be recovering from a head injury that precluded him from returning to work, when all along he was working, probably harder than all of them at this point. Setting defences only he could, and keeping Arthur in a constant state of worry over whether he was trying to do too much, too soon. He had asked Gaius to keep tabs on him once he had been informed of his having exhausted himself once again yesterday.

If all was well and Gaius deemed him recovered enough Arthur would regain his manservant tomorrow, and with the prospect of George hovering in the background for yet another day, with his seemingly limitless supply of supposed witticisms. Arthur didn't think it could come soon enough. He would be able to keep an eye on his friends health better too.

…..

Aithusa loved Morgana. She needed him. He had been fascinated by her pretty features and had wondered why she had been stumbling around in the forest when he had first met her. When he had realised she was injured her need had called to him. When he had healed her of her physical wound he had realised how much of her hurt was inside, how much it would take to heal, and knew he could not leave her. So he had stayed close.

And every time he felt her hurt getting bigger, he had flown to her side and stayed until it had gotten better and then he had gone again. But every time he came, her need for him grew as did his need for her, and he just loved her all the more.


	37. Chapter 36 Keys to the future

**A/N We are very nearly there I promise. I'm looking forward to writing the battle sense but also not. I have understandably never been in a medieval battle. So trying to write one is terrifying me. Any suggestions?**

**I don't own Merlin. If I did he would have to help me out with my battle, he has after all been there, done that.**

…**..**

Chapter 36 Keys to the future.

The morning was just beginning. Birdsong heralding that today would be yet another lovely spring day.

Merlin made his way down the corridor carrying the royal breakfasts. Marvelling that the last time he had done this, only Gaius had known his most closely guarded secret. Now there were 14 people who knew. He rather thought his mother might kill him herself if she found out how many were privy to it. And then probably give him a hug and break down in tears. Realising that no, they were not going to kill him, or even banish him. He was even at this moment walking freely, doing as he had always done, and serving Arthur in any capacity he needed and yet doing so with his full knowledge and approval. The grin wouldn't stay off his face.

He had been back down to the tunnels again last night. Bedivere following like a puppy. Utterly fascinated with the magic Merlin had cast. Eager and willing to learn any tidbits he could from just watching another magic user at work. The young man had just turned twenty. Only four years younger than he, and yet Merlin felt twice as old. Showing him how he had marked the fault lines in the rough hewn passages to give himself targets to direct the power gave him a sense of achievement. Here he was **teaching** magic, and to a knight no less. He had told Gaius on his return from the task of blocking them, and Gaius had laughed with him about his enthusiasm.

Despite Morgana's stated plans to be on the move either today or tomorrow he still felt that it would be a very good day.

…..

Frige walked gracefully across the rubble strewn landscape. Her auburn curls blowing out behind her in the freshening breeze and her dress of diaphanous fabric doing the same.

Great golden stone pillars rose before her and the remnants of a broken tower, the top sheared off and ragged like teeth rising to the sky. An ivy covered wall and an arched doorway the wood long since rotted, led to a staircase of granite, the edges worn smooth from centuries of feet and rain. It wound down into the bowels of the earth towards a chamber, long forgotten, like most of this ruin.

The room was round, stone and empty save for the jasper ring set into the floor. The red and black mottled surface covered in runes looked like it had only just been laid. Though Frige knew it had been there since before Dinas Emrys had been built let alone destroyed. Under this slab was one of the keys to the future, and now she must retrieve it.

She laid her hand upon the smoothly carved surface, fingers glowing and the jasper crumbled to dust. There sitting undisturbed for over a thousand years lay a dragon egg. The creature inside no longer alive, its magic bound to the city that had fallen centuries ago. Frige plucked it from its burial and caressed the surface lovingly, disentangling the enchantments of binding with a brush of her fingertips. Then wrapping it in fine silk she left the chamber fading with each step as she returned to her loving husband.

…..

The knock came just as Lynette put the finishing touches to Gwen's hair. Arthur had been up since just before dawn. Gwaine having come just as the sun started to lighten the sky to let them know he had been investigating an artisan in the town and found incontrovertible evidence in his shop and outbuilding to suggest he was at least one of their spies. Arthur had sent him back out with instructions to keep a very close eye on him and at the first sign of any messages being sent out or other informants contacting him, to escort the man to the citadel as discretely as possible.

She could see him in her mirror, now sat at his desk supposedly reading reports, but he had been sat back and slouching in his chair for the last half hour just turning his quill in his hand, staring intently at nothing. She smiled to herself knowing the reason. He had been very distracted of late. Every time he had left Merlin in Gaius or his knight's capable hands he had been constantly shifting as though uncomfortable.

As soon as the knock came he had straightened abruptly, thrown the quill down and lit up from within. Gwen giggled to see it, earning her a look of enquiry from her maid. Honestly it was like being married to two men. One couldn't function without the other. She shook her head both indicating to Lynette that she couldn't explain and at the antics of her husband.

Merlin came through the door, tray in hand, grin plastered across his face that just seemed to get wider as he saw them.

Gwen dismissed her maid, waiting until she had left before getting up to take the tray from their friend. Merlin made to grab it back.

"You're the Queen you shouldn't be serving breakfast."

"By all accounts neither should you, **Lord** Merlin." His laughter burst from him, joyful and free. He gave a bow.

"Touche, my lady. Though I haven't been formally acknowledged. I'm not entirely sure I want to be." His voice became quieter, more conspiratorial. "Have you **seen** what passes for a noble these days?" Gwen giggled helplessly, it was good to have him back.

"Join us?" It had been phrased as a question but the note of command made it an order. Arthur would always be a pompous prat, it would just be of varying degrees depending on the situation. Merlin smiled to himself and pulled up a chair. He didn't think Arthur could **be** Arthur without the kingly arrogance rearing its head at least once a day.

"Good job I brought plenty then." Arthur didn't say anything arose from behind the desk picking up a small red box and a tightly rolled parchment as he came and sat with them at the dining table, depositing them in front of Merlin without ceremony, then just picking up his knife and starting to eat.

Gwen's look was puzzled, Merlin's even more so as he picked up the red leather box.

"What's this?"

"Perhaps you should open it and see." That twinkle was back.

"Oh no last time you had that look you'd found my fathers title. What is it this time? I'm not a lost prince am I?"

"Merlin, open the damn box!" Merlin huffed and did just that. Gaping in stunned stupefaction. It couldn't be. He raised his eyes from the contents to stare at the king, not able to speak.

Gwen leaned over trying to get a glimpse of what had caused such a reaction.

"I told you, you had to have some protection. That you couldn't just run around performing magic without people knowing you had the trust of the king. That and the letter will ensure it." Merlin unrolled the parchment. All official jargon and beribboned red wax seal, and he just swallowed heavily.

Gwen's impatience got the better of her after sitting there craning her neck trying to see whilst her two favourite men sat in silence.

"Just what have you done to him Arthur? I've never seen Merlin so lost for words."

Merlin turned the box round and handed over the letter.

There nestled in red velvet sat Arthur's mothers ring, complete with the Pendragon family crest and the parchment named Merlin as a protector of the realm and gave him special dispensation to use his magic as he saw fit, in defence of the kingdom.

Arthur had told him hadn't he? That no-one would ever question him again. That ring and that parchment meant that even if he decided to stay as Arthur's manservant. He was considered Arthurs brother in all but name. And no man would stand higher in his eyes. Gwen's strangled gasp indicated she knew exactly what he had done. Her shocked eyes flew to his and then to Arthur's who was at this moment sat quietly revelling in the reactions.

Gwen couldn't contain her joy any longer and launched herself at the warlock, enfolding him in a hug of epic proportions whilst he sniffed and let the tears flow once again. "I swear your husband is trying to kill me with emotional overload!" Gwen just laughed.

"Don't be ridiculous _Mer_lin. If I were trying to kill you, you'd be dead."

…..

The rest of the day was a blur. Arthur must have realised Merlin's state of mind, and left him with a list of chores so light and mind numbingly easy, he could have done them in his sleep. It was just as well really. He'd been left in a daze. His hands working automatically to polish Arthur's armour, or make the bed, or any one of a dozen other chores he just couldn't recall doing at this point. His hand kept straying to the warm weight of the ring on a chain round his neck, and hidden beneath his layers of clothes. Reassuring himself, that it was still there, and this whole thing was not a dream.

They'd been down to the training field this morning. Merlin perched in his usual spot, barrel of sand in front of him rubbing the mud and rust from Arthur's spare chainmail ready for the days to come. The Knights had all greeted him as normal welcoming him back and asking after his head injury. Apparently he had convinced them his wits were still begging as they kept giving him mildly concerned looks, and asking if he were all right. Even Sir Mostyn, who now knew of his magic had come over and enquired in his dry gravelly voice if he were well. Merlin couldn't recall what he had replied.

Perhaps that had been part of Arthur's plan all along. Discomfit him so much with his mother's ring he wouldn't need to do much acting to convince them of his fake concussion.

Even Morgana's impending decent couldn't have shaken him from the fog. Or so he thought, until that afternoon. Arthur was back in the council chambers meeting with several of his newest commanders. Sir Norris, Sir Chandry and Sir Tomas were to go on patrol. Specifically north, to fan out and see if they could gather any information for Morgana's arrival.

"Take three men each, make sure they are all good horsemen, and take the fastest mounts. You'll be small enough groups to hopefully be able to out run them. We don't need any specific information we already have it. As soon as you spot them turn and run. Be careful we cannot let her see we have advanced warning. Our advantages lay in her belief that we do not know. We have to be able to turn the tables on her."

They all nodded in the affirmative, took one look at Merlin and then left.

"I'm not convinced I won't get stabbed in the back some dark night." Arthur turned with a half smile appreciating the somewhat macabre joke.

"Don't worry if you do I'll hunt the perpetrators down." Merlin laughed.

"Nice to know you care about me enough to stop them after they've killed me."

"Of course." Arthur's half hearted retort was enough to convince the warlock that there was something else on Arthurs mind.

"What is it? Come on with everything that has happened over the last few days, if you didn't have some doubts I'd know for a fact you weren't Arthur."

"Are we set on the right course? Maybe we should have tried getting people out. We still can."

"But not all of them. We would still have to defend the city regardless, This way we aren't splitting the resources for defence and Morgana can't flank us without us knowing. The walls will stand and we will prevail."

"How can you be so sure of yourself?"

"I have to believe it, nothing else will suffice."

"How can she do this? If she had just talked to me, I would have listened. She never gave me that chance. I should have known, should have seen."

"Arthur. We are human not omnipotent, we can't know or see everything, and we certainly can't singlehandedly prevent all the evil in this world. We can only do our utmost to help whenever and with whatever we can and live with the consequences should something slip through. You need to forgive yourself. Trust me when I say that was a very bitter pill to swallow. But I have taken it to heart, and though it takes time, I can move forward. To constantly look back and wallow in our failures is to forget that we fight for not only our future but that of the entire kingdom too.

This is your plan and it's a very good one. I've never doubted we could win simply because it's you who leads us. The people will fight with everything they have for **you **because they believe in you. Please don't start to doubt your self. That just means you've started to doubt them." Arthur's huff of laughter surprised him.

"Why can't you be this diplomatic in the council?"

"I like to keep them on their toes, and what they have to say is usually rubbish!" Arthur just shook his head feeling immeasurably better.

…..


	38. Chapter 37 She comes!

**A/N Finally she gets there. Honestly she doesn't seem able to pack light! Ok, ok so It's all my fault, I kept delaying her. Well hope you enjoy.**

**Oh and can I just say the whump in here was NOT meant to go so far. My fingers just kept flying over the keys. I do apologise I'm not normally a violent person. **

…..

Chapter 37 She comes!

There was no word that night nor the next day from the knights sent to the north.

Arthur and those entrusted with the knowledge tried to take comfort in the calm before the storm, knowing that these were the last few hours before all hell broke loose. But all day there had been an undertone of tense worry riding the currents within the training, the council and even through the meals. Everyone wondering when the signal would come.

Gwaine did as promised and discreetly kidnapped the leatherworker when he was discovered trying to send a raven just before cocks crow. So quiet were they that the man's neighbours never noticed a thing and assumed the shop was shut because the man was ill. He now resided in the furthest cell in the dungeons, unconscious from a blow to the head and tended by Gwaine. Bedivere remaining at the shop in case any of his accomplices dropped by. They knew he had to have at least one to gather information from the castle, he would have been found out long since if he were working alone.

Arthur had dismissed Merlin for most of the day into the care of Gaius who had him grinding herbs, making tinctures, poultices and remedies. Hunting out the stores of honey and threading the needles ready. Gwen and Agnes made last minute checks of the stored food. Making sure that the evening's meals would consist of the fresh produce that wouldn't store easily, and baking the hard flat trail bread that would keep for days so the fires in the kitchen could be banked later to prevent accidents.

Arthur called a meeting of the knights, citing the need for new training rosters but really to bring them in on the situation, knowing they needed to be told now so they could help the evacuation of the lower town when the call came through.

Merlin resumed his duties for the king that evening, serving at the meal, giving him significant glances of encouragement when he became too mired in his own thoughts and handing him well watered wine with pithy comments meant to make him laugh when he just looked depressed.

The meal had long since ended, most of the nobles and some of the older knights having retired for the night. Most of the younger generation of knights and only a few hardy souls of the gentry were left. When the doors flew open admitting Sir Norris almost running.

"Sire they come from the direction of the perilous lands. Morgana leads them herself! Sir Chandry has been injured sire. An arrow to the back."

"They know then, you were seen?"

"An advance scouting party only sire we took them out with crossbows and took the time to remove the bodies. She still does not know."

"Has Chandry been seen to?" A nod whilst Sir Norris got his breath back. "Merlin go with Sir Norris to the infirmary, see what you can do for Sir Chandry." Merlin merely nodded. His king had just asked him to heal the knight. Perhaps he should have told Arthur that healing spells just didn't like him for some reason. "How long do we have?"

"They will be here by tomorrow early evening. We rode the horses practically into the ground. Sir Tomas and the others were unhurt and are seeing to their care."

"You did well. Go rest we will need you all." Arthur turned to another servant. "See that Sir Tomas and his men know to leave the horses to the stable hands. Then gather the other servants in the great hall." A bobbing bow and the servant left at a run.

The panic in the council room was unusual in that only the handful of courtiers still around at this time of night seemed to feel it. The king, queen, knights and even the king's manservant, merely looked determined as if they had known all along what was to happen.

Sir Norris slid to the floor, utterly spent and Merlin went to him, trying to offer refreshment and the use of his arm. Sir Norris didn't look at him but did take his offered hand.

This was it the preparations laid down as best they could the caverns prepared for habitation and the enemy sighted on the horizon, they were as ready as they could hope to be. The king turned to his round table and motioned them forward.

"We gather our people at dawn!"

…..

Merlin's arm was steady under Sir Norris's grip. The man hadn't wanted to take it. He was still very wary of the young servant and his magic. But he had watched him over the last few days ever since he had been told of it. He had done nothing noteworthy. Serving the king as he always had. Joking and laughing and just being….normal. It was not what he had expected. He had never been taught that sorcerers were people. They were the enemy, a thing to be feared for their power and their hate. Merlin did not fit the description he had always been told.

"How badly is Sir Chandry wounded?" The question took him by surprise until he remembered that Merlin was also Gaius's apprentice and had helped with the wounded before now. He had even cleaned stitched and bandaged a gash from training that he himself had suffered. And done it with skill.

"He got hit just below his right shoulder. He lost quite a bit of blood I think but the others took him to Gaius so I'm not sure how badly." Merlin merely nodded looking thoughtful.

"Was he conscious?"

"Ah barely I don't know if he will be now. Why?" Merlin sighed and scratched a hand through the hair at the side of his head.

"Arthur told me to do what I can, that might mean magic. Will Chandry let me?"

"You're asking?" Merlin looked a little surprised.

"Of course! I don't want to make him uncomfortable and I will always try and ask unless it is life or death. In which case I'd rather save them so they **can** worry about how it was achieved." Merlin looked at him as if that should have been obvious and said no more. Sir Norris couldn't say anything, it had been unexpected to say the least. It was certainly something he would have to think about.

Gaius was leaning over Sir Chandry when they entered the chambers. He was laying on his front shirt and chainmail removed and quite clearly unconscious. Whether through pain or one of Gaius's potions Merlin wasn't entirely sure.

"How is he?" The worry in Norris's voice could not be mistaken. Clearly they were friends.

"His breathing is laboured and he is running a slight fever. I'm not entirely sure if the arrow has nicked the lung. It could be potentially dangerous, if it has, depending on how badly. We will need to monitor him closely. Merlin, could you fetch honey and the needles? I've cleaned the wound, so all you need do is stitch and bandage." Another nod and the bustle of the servant fetching and carrying gave Norris a chance to sit and to observe. He noted his professionalism, his gentle hands and neat stitches. His confidence at performing a delicate and responsible task, and his concentration whilst he did so.

"Why haven't you used magic?"

"As I said before if it's not life or death, I will ask. It's better to let it heal naturally if we can anyway, that way the body gets stronger. Keep doing things with magic and it will eventually learn not to fight as hard. I would only interfere if it was needed. Like with poison, or if he has a chance of bleeding internally. Something science can't always fix."

Gaius in his corner, snorted. "So you have learned something from your lessons after all." Merlin blushed slightly.

"I'm not very good with healing magic. It doesn't seem to like me." The quiet admission was embarrassed and carried a hint of frustration.

"It takes practice and patience. You know this. Give yourself time to learn and you will." Merlin brightened a little at this.

"I've not had any real time to learn anything. Maybe Arthur will allow me the hours to do so now?"

"You'll never know unless you ask him. Though I would wait until after we deal with Morgana." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't about to charge down there **now** Gaius! Arthur has enough on his mind without my problems with healing magic adding to it."

Sir Norris was confused. This whole conversation just seemed so domesticated. As if it were an everyday occurrence, two people sharing their experiences and their problems. Not what he might have thought of if magic had ever come up in conversation. It was also, not to put too fine a point on it, interesting. No one had ever mentioned magic so casually before in his hearing. It was always as part of an accusation he realised, and said in hate or anger.

"So what happens now?"

"We'll stay with him. Check him for signs of worsening fever, coughing or blood through the night. If all is well he can be moved in to the infirmary tomorrow where I can keep an eye on him, if not we will see how bad it is and go from there. If it does come to magic it would be because nothing else will work." Norris understood. They would try everything they could without it and have magic as the last resort. He could see they were skilled physicians and dedicated. Chandry was in good hands. Even if it did come to magic. And just like that he realised he may just have accepted Merlin after all.

…...

The dawn came much quicker than most of the inhabitants of the citadel wanted it to and the lower town was in turmoil.

Even with the knight's assistance in keeping the peace and the orderly way they went about knocking on the doors and then helping the people pack and walk up to the citadel. There were arguments and stubbornness, from citizens who did not believe that yet another attack was to be visited upon them so soon. Wails and shrieks and panic, kept to a minimum true but still there none the less.

All Gwaine, Elyan and two dozen other knights could do was try and reassure them as much as possible and keep them moving in long streaming lines up to the castle itself. Passing them off into the waiting hands of yet more knights and the castle servants, who had been charged with leading them to their new quarters. They had to repeat themselves over and over that no they would not be able to take everything with them, just necessities, there wasn't room for anything else, but they would do everything in their power to make sure they still had homes and belongings to come back to at the end and if not that they would be given all the help they needed to rebuild.

They asked for and gained volunteers to help set up barricades to hinder the invaders, and man the walls, people to round up the livestock and herd them to the set of caverns made into temporary holding pens. To gather grain and food, and buckets for water. To check the houses and put out any fires left banked in the hearths to reduce the risks of accidental destruction. All in all the retreat from the city towards the citadel, was organised chaos. Each district of the city was given one large or set of smaller caverns, so the people would stay with their neighbours and hopefully be calmer for it. Each of the six cavern systems was asked for a representative, a reliable volunteer to sit in the war council and be kept informed so they may relay back to their respective districts.

It was in fact so well co-ordinated that 90% of the people were settled, the livestock lowing contentedly and munching on grain, the representatives chosen and sat in the council room before the noble council members had even eaten their late breakfasts. To say they were surprised when they turned up for the mid morning's council session to see six commoners sat at the table was a rather large understatement. Not only that but Merlin the king's manservant was laying food out in front of them that could have rivalled their own and then daring to sit in the seat at the right hand of the throne. They were just a tad miffed. Lord Perrin especially felt the need to personally oversee the punishment for the servant's insubordination and affront to the dignity of the council room.

Perhaps they should have looked a little closer. If they had they may have noted the king, lurking at the back of the room, half hidden behind the pillars and hanging tapestries, plate of breakfast in hand talking to Gwen quietly so as not to spook their nervous guests further.

"Just what do you think you are doing boy!" Lord Perrin's booming voice was rather loud and obnoxious at the best of times. Right now with a night of very little sleep from checking Chandry's condition, it went right through him. Merlin winced and stood to face the Lord and his peers ranged behind him.

"My Lord, I have the commoners council assembled as you can see. The king wished to meet them as soon as possible." Merlin's tone and slight bow were perfectly respectful. Certainly more than the other man's was. Lord Perrin of course being somewhat of a pompous ass and more than willing to try showing the young man up, not liking him on principle, for having too much influence over the king, was being as belligerent and bellicose as possible.

"You will remove this riff raff from the council room right now and wait outside, if the king wants you, which I highly doubt, then the guard can fetch you when he arrives." Merlin tried one last time to be polite, knowing Arthur was now listening, and probably seeing how well he could handle himself. Bloody prat, a little help right now really wouldn't go amiss. They didn't know about the ring or his nobility after all and he really didn't want to shout and sound as haughty as they did. He had a headache coming on and that would make it worse.

"My Lord I really think…"

"That's just the trouble isn't it. You do far too much thinking. You are a servant boy, learn your place! Now get out!" That was it. Merlin had had enough. He squared his shoulders and faced Lord Perrin down.

"I don't think so." The tone was cold and every bit as regal as Arthur had ever managed. Lord Perrin spluttered, clearly taken aback at Merlin's daring to contradict him and in front of the commoners no less. Said commoners looking on with avid interest and not a little awe.

"You dare! Insolent pup. Guards!"

"Oh I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Almost casually Merlin pulled the chain from beneath his neckerchief. The ring glinting and clearly visible for all to see. The Lords all stumbled back with the force of their astonishment. They all started muttering amongst themselves clearly starting to question the wisdom of facing the servant when he held such a token of the kings trust. Lord Perrin of course just had to take things a step further. Ignoring the whispered warnings of his friends in his ear.

"I'll have your head for this upstart. Thievery is a serious crime in this kingdom." At that Perrin grabbed the chain and gave it a yank, expecting it to break. He had not however counted on Merlin having spelled the chain so it couldn't be damaged and lose the precious ring. The result was Merlin having been taken by surprise and being unceremoniously pulled from his feet to land on the floor with a yell.

Arthur couldn't stand by any longer. He had held back merely to give him space to handle the Lords, knowing he would need to stand up to them at some point and not realising how far this particular one would be willing to go. He stepped from the shadow, just as the called for guard entered the room. Lord Perrin had turned towards them, so he still didn't see the king. However all the others did, and started frantically trying to let the hapless lord know. He was truly oblivious, more intent on getting the ring off Merlin's neck. Twisting it and almost strangling the man in his quest to break the chain eyes intent on his task than what was going on in the rest of the room. Merlin clawed at his neck trying to gain purchase under the fine links to make enough room to breathe. Giving up on getting the ring from him, Perrin threw him down in disgust and gestured to the guards who were looking on in fascinated horror.

"This filth has stolen from the royal household. Get that ring from him and throw him in the dungeons." The guards looked from the enraged Lord to their advancing king and backed away when he shook his head. Perrin at last sensed the mood of the room when the other men started distancing themselves from him and the commoners, Gwen and even two Lords had rushed forward to help the now gasping warlock.

The tap on the shoulder, preceded the Lord turning to face his king and being punched with such force his head snapped back, he lost a tooth and was unconscious before he hit the ground.

"Take Master Perrin to the dungeons and see he stays there till this conflict is over. Once it is you may escort him across the border and instruct him never to return. He has assaulted a member of my family, and it will not stand. Someone go fetch Gaius." The king's use of the Master instead of Lord, and the word family in relation to Merlin a clear indication that Perrin had now just been stripped of his title and then banished with the seriousness of his crime.

Merlin lay on the floor trying to even his breathing, clearly quite shaken. "Didn't think he'd go so far!" Merlin's voice was harsh and raspy from the damage to his throat. "Neither did I or I'd have stepped in sooner. You were handling it well till he went berserk." Arthur hauled the young man to his feet and helped him into a chair.


	39. Chapter38 There's something about Merlin

**A/N Next ones the battle itself folks so hold onto your hats. It won't be up today I'm afraid it will be posted tomorrow. Possibly in two or three parts depending on how carried away I get, and if Lord Perrin is anything to go by I can get very carried away.**

**Ah well battles are supposed to be violent and bloody, and full of amazing bamfedness right!**

**Oh Merlin I do wish I owned thee.**

…**..**

Chapter 38 There's something about Merlin

The excitement hadn't stopped with just a near murder it seemed.

Shortly after Arthur's timely rescue, Khilgarrah had come literally bursting through the doors of the chamber. Startling everyone into wide eyed gawking. The commoners for the most part were finding this thrilling and a welcome distraction from the impending siege.

Everyone knew Merlin. He was a happy figure always willing to lend a hand and a smile. The merchants were familiar with his bargaining skills, the artisans whilst he ran errands for the king or other nobles, the citizens as he ran here and there on business for just about everyone, and followed Gaius in his capacity as physician's apprentice.

To have had him stand up for them to a Lord of the realm and almost be choked to death for their pains, gained their respect. To then have the monarchy come to **his** aid rather than the lord's left them with a sense of smug satisfaction at the noble's comeuppance. Now they just wanted to know who this strange looking individual was that had burst in so spectacularly, and concernedly. Quite obviously seeking the young man.

"Merlin are you well?" Merlin had the look of a startled hare at Khilgarrah's sudden appearance. He had one hand on his abused throat really not sure how to answer that with so many listening in. If he told him he was fine when he so clearly wasn't the people would wonder why. But Khilgarrah's concern might make him slip with something they were not yet ready to reveal if he told him how much he hurt.

"He will be. Gaius, glad you're here. Merlin needs you." Merlin's hand dropped and both Gaius and Khilgarrah gave a sharp cry.

"Who did this?"

"Doesn't matter now, Arthur took care of them." His voice was going and the few words he had managed ended in a cough, the chain having cut his airway off and digging dark bruises into the soft pale skin. Reddened grazes and knuckle shaped dark marks showing clearly where the former lord had twisted and pulled the chain in order to remove it. Arthur looked thoughtful for a moment then asked one of the remaining guards to gather the knights needed for the war council.

"Merlin we knew it would have to come out at some point. How about with a demonstration." He gestured vaguely at the warlocks throat. Merlin grabbed him pulling him down and whispering fiercely, sounding like he'd swallowed gravel.

"If you're thinking of me healing myself I can't do it. I'm rubbish at healing."

Khilgarrah, stood at his left, draconian hearing exceptionally acute, heard every word. In an equally soft sibilant whisper he directed his words to the both of them

"If you will permit I cannot **do** magic at this moment, but I can guide **you** to do so." Arthur looked a little startled but pleased, Merlin just shut his eyes. Yet another reveal. He really should be used to them by now. He really hated being the centre of attention. He gave a nod. He had always said he would ride to the gates of hell for Arthur. This felt very close to it.

…..

Morgana rode a pure white stallion. Not usually classed as a ladies mount by any means and Odin had looked at it askance when it had been brought round for her to ride. But Morgana had never been classed as a delicate bloom of a maiden and she had always ridden as if born to the saddle. Even out riding Arthur on occasion.

This spirited beauty made her feel invincible whilst sitting at the head of her vast army (She could no more think of it as Odin's than Odin probably thought of it as hers). They had made very good time, the weather balmy and dry, made perfect conditions for both the infantry and the provision wagons. The ruts hard yes but no exhausted men trying to push through miles of mud encrusted roads, pushing the carts when the wheels were sucked into the mire.

They would be there this evening and she couldn't wait to hear the cries of fear and distress at seeing an army suddenly appear as if from no-where. The absolute pandemonium as they realised there was nowhere to go

She only wished she could see Emrys' face when he realised his efforts had all been in vain.

Spurring her horse on, needing to gallop to burn off some of hers and the horses excess energy she left Odin and the soldiers behind.

…..

Arthur stood with his wife looking throughout the room at his people here gathered for common purpose. Merlin off in the corner with both Gaius and Khilgarrah working out the spell he would need to heal himself. He hated to ask it of him but it would be a perfect demonstration that the man had the gifts required to defeat his sister. He only hoped the fall out from this would be kept to a minimum until after the minor war, when they would have the time to deal with the consequences.

He also hoped that seeing his friend defending them with everything he had would allow them to see past the prejudice they had built around themselves like a wall. There was no hiding this. If Merlin were to be an effective part of the protections he needed to know he would not be shot in the back.

Guinevere placed her arm around his waist and leaned into his side. A pillar of strength and reassurance. How he thought he could do without this woman by his side always, was beyond him. Thank the gods Merlin had made him really look at himself and realise it before he was too late.

As the last of the Knights filed into the council room Arthur straightened, noting the room was now rather crowded. He pulled away from his wife to address them all. The room quieting as he did so.

"My friends. For the last five days we have been preparing to meet Morgana." The murmurs had grown in volume. The surprise evident. People now realising that this had been kept from them. "We did not keep this from you lightly. Know that this was the only way we knew to keep everyone as safe as possible." More muttering, and uneasy glances. "Morgana has been planning this for some time. Preparing the attack for when she believes the city to be at its weakest. Wrongly thinking she has taken away its greatest protection." The comments were all confused now. Just what was Arthur referring to. "For many years now this kingdom has been defended by a man known to you, who's only thought was to protect those he loved. Using a gift he was born with, but by the laws of this land, could get him killed. Nine days ago this man was attacked and almost died. It was only through the efforts of some of my knights, the court physician and a friend that he has survived to help us once again." The crowd was very restless now a few having guessed what 'gift' meant, but needing either an outright denial or confirmation before anything was said. "Morgana believes he is now no longer a threat to her. No longer able to defend us. This is not true, and we will fight together till the last breath to safeguard your homes. He has shown time and time again that he would lay down his life for me, for all of you and though I know how you must all feel towards those with the gift of magic I ask you to treat him with honour and respect. He uses his magic for the purpose it was intended, for the benefit of all." Arthur turned toward his friend then. "Merlin come here please." A few gasps, of disbelief no doubt, as the warlock made his slow way to the kings side, and stood proudly. No longer looking like the bumbling boy they knew so well. He stood like a warrior, tall and straight and true. The common born councillors gaped. This man had stood there and allowed a Lord to almost strangle him whilst defending their right to be there, and he was supposedly a powerful magic user, a warlock.

It must be said that the peasantry generally held a slightly better view of sorcery than the average nobleman. Having grown up in a society that was never very fair towards the lower orders. Medical help normally withheld and kept for the more privileged classes, could be found with the druids if a soul were brave enough to risk it. And most of the citizenry had never held the belief that children and people only associated with magic, but without it themselves should be burned. Too many had lost neighbours or loved ones to Uther's irrational rages against the practice. Their own rage towards those who used it, merely because to associate with said people, even by accident, was to invite the pyre. They had seen the shift towards lenience and justice when Arthur had ascended to the throne and had welcomed it. Now even more so. It seemed their lives would become a little easier. No more having to be wary of every stranger asking for aid. No more wondering if you're neighbour would turn out to be your own downfall through something you had no hope of knowing.

"You all know my manservant, Merlin." Nods around the room. Looks of bitterness, hate and surprisingly quite a few beaming smiles were all now directed his way. "Merlin is a good man and has suffered much in his bid to protect us all. We are not repealing the ban on magic at this time, but I am giving him a special dispensation to carry on using his talents to guard this kingdom from the forces that cannot be combated by conventional weaponry. He holds my complete trust and is under my protection, harm him and you harm me. Any act of unwarranted aggression towards him will be punished." The steely glint in his eye took them all in the command clear. Harm Merlin for his magic and it would be classed as treason. His demeanour softened as he once again turned to the young man. "Merlin heal yourself." A few more gasps. It was one thing for the king to condone the use of magic by a member of his household even giving him permission to use it, sight unseen, but to specifically order him to do so in front of his people, people who had not previously been comfortable with it previously was another thing entirely.

Swallowing painfully and very self conscious, Merlin lifted one elegant hand. Placing it across the harsh bruising around his neck and in a croaked voice still full of power recited the words of healing.

"_**Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare."**_ Khilgarrah had been coaching him on how to direct the magic. What the intent behind the words should be. Since that was always his problem. His pronunciation had always been second to none, the knowledge of the language of the old religion seeming to have been woven into the very essence of his being. But gaining the experience to know how to direct his will into the delicate and intricate healing spells had been lacking. Fortunately the lesson in this particular instance seemed to have held fast and after a few moments he cut off the flow of his magic and removed his hand leaving unblemished skin behind and a voice that no longer bore the scars of strangulation.

…..

The city stood in the noon sun shining stark and white against the greenery of the distant hill. Visible across the vast valley between their ridge and the one on which Camelot stood. Their quarry was in sight and the Men picked up their feet, though they still had many miles and hours to travel yet before they could rest.

Odin rode with his men. Morgana was glad of it. She had never enjoyed talking for the sake of just talking and there was nothing that now needed to be said between them. Besides Aithusa had joined her for this leg of the journey, she would content herself with his more welcome company.

…..

The late noon meal had been served in the council room whilst they talked strategy, and it was one of the most uncomfortable of Merlin's entire existence. No-one dared address him with anything other than respect but they got around the edict of being polite by hardly speaking to him at all if they could avoid it. It was as though he had turned invisible. He sat at Arthur's right and talked to his friends, answering any queries that came his way, also from said friends, but he could not completely disguise the hurt, that he was once again being ignored. It seemed the trust of the king would only carry him so far.

This time the treatment was at the hands of all the other people who had known him for all the years he had lived here. He had forgotten that this was the first reaction he had expected from his friends. Now he had had a taste of the acceptance they offered, it seemed worse somehow that others did not share their view. He tried to keep his mind focused, to push away the feelings of rejection, after all they did not know him as well as his friends did. And had few instances of behaviour by which to compare his actions, but as the day progressed the lines of tension in his frame became greater. Yet another headache bloomed and he begged to be excused. Quietly gaining Arthur's attention as he answered yet another query of the numbers of volunteers.

"Do you need me again right now? If I am to be of use I think I need to lie down." Seeing the line of pain written across Merlin's face Arthur just shook his head. They had already discussed the fortifications Merlin had put in place, and Arthur knew he would be by his king's side in the fighting to come. Anything else could be filled in with him later. "No. I don't think there's anything else you need to be here for. Go get some sleep. Be back at the evening bell, with my plate armour." Merlin nodded and discreetly left them all to it.


	40. Chapter 39 It begins!

**A/N So here you are the first of my battle chapters. There isn't so much fighting in this so i'm sorry to all who were expecting blood and guts and gore straight off, but i hope i have captured the essence of the tension the men might be feeling. Anyway enjoy and i have the next installment half written. Unfortunately it's the middle bit so i can't just post it and hope for the best. I still need to write how they go from the end of this to what i have written in the next chapter. My characters are being stubborn again!**

**...**

Chapter 39 It begins!

Merlin silently helped Arthur into his plate armour. Buckling straps and tightening to perfect comfort with consummate ease. It wasn't like him to be quiet but there were so many worries running round in his brain he couldn't help it.

Khilgarrah had cornered him in his chamber when he had left Arthur after the noon meal. Confessing that he had no idea what he could do to help in the coming conflict. Merlin had tried reversing the God's transformation, with of course no success. He hadn't really thought he would be able to undo it. It had after all been done by a God.

He couldn't really suggest anything either. Khilgarrah's magic didn't work whilst in human form. He had never had need or even occasion to hold any form of weapon since as a dragon he pretty much **was** one. He was a creature of magic true and swords didn't injure him to the degree that it did humans but it would still take a toll if he were to launch himself at a wall of enemies. All in all he had had to concede that the best he could do was hole himself in the infirmary with Gaius to fetch and carry. It didn't sit well with him that he had promised Arthur aid but was in actuality rather helpless.

The knights other than those who had originally been in on the secret were avoiding him like he carried a plague, and a couple of the lords had taken him aside in the corridor and tried to curry favour with insincere flattery whilst also eyeing him with thinly veiled threat Merlin didn't know what they had been attempting to achieve from it. Altogether it was proving to be a trying day and this evening was set to get worse.

The flags of Morgana and Odin's army had been sighted. The last of the messengers and scouts having fled through the gates that had now been locked tight.

The volunteers now manned the walls, interspersed with experienced soldiers and knights. There were men stationed on the roofs of the sturdier buildings in the lower town ready and waiting with cross bows should the enemy break through. Barricades of wagons and barrels, along the route through, to create a maze that would lead the enemy past those self same houses. Barrels of water set up at intersections in case of fire and also of oil to create fiery rivers to send along the sewer channels at the feet of the invaders.

The greatest concentration of forces had been set up on the walls facing north, since that was the direction they came from with token forces on the remaining walls all with voluntary runners to relay messages and orders.

They were as ready as they were ever going to be and Merlin couldn't help be proud that he had had a hand in the planning.

His shield was strong, stronger than anything he had ever created before and he was confident it would withstand anything Morgana could throw at it let alone any other sorcerers she may have. They would not break either the walls or the gates. It would not however, stop anyone from coming over the top with ladders.

The last buckle snapped into place and Merlin handed Arthur Excalibur explaining as he did so.

"If you get the chance to run Morgana through, make sure you do it with this sword." Merlin's tone was resigned. He did not want to kill Morgana, knew Arthur didn't relish the prospect either. But both knew the necessity of the action, and if they could end the conflict by doing so. They would not hesitate again.

"Why couldn't I do it with another one?"

"Morgana is a high priestess of the triple goddess. A mortal blade may harm her but it would not kill. This is special. It is a blade forged in Khilgarrah's breath. His magic flows through it and will kill even the living dead. It is an immortal blade made only for your hand. With it you can withstand anything. No other man can be allowed to wield it." Arthur's jaw worked for a few moments, clearly trying to assimilate what he had just been told of his favourite weapon.

"I take it the story of Bruta never happened then?" Merlin was a little taken aback for a moment not expecting the levity. He blinked and a smile finally made an appearance. Mischief visibly dancing through him.

"Ah no. Though you **are** the true king of Camelot and no-one else could have drawn it from that stone. I made sure of that when I placed it there." Arthur's bark of laughter followed them to the battlements. Both unexpectedly cheered.

…..

The pennants fluttered. Stark black with a slash of darkest red, white wolf snarling. The men dressed in dark clothing in varying states. Rank after rank of them. The knights in a mix of deepest burgundy and black cloaks.

It looked like a dark storm cloud gathering. Much like the real ones intruding into the balmy blue sky. They would have rain ere the night was out.

Morgana herself sat atop a white horse, Odin clearly sat beside her on a deep bay.

Their estimate of five thousand was a little out. There were probably closer to seven.

More than the garrison. Though Camelot had surprise on their side and better trained men. It would not be an easy victory, no doubt Morgana had swelled her ranks with several magic users, but the siege would not go as well as Morgana hoped either. They could win this, so long as her sorcerers could be taken out quickly.

…..

The warning bell should have sounded as soon as they crested the ridge.

And there should have been workers out in the fields, running for their lives. The gates open, welcoming the fleeing people back.

The fields were empty. The gates shut and an eerie quiet pervaded the surrounding area. There was something wrong and Morgana needed to know what.

Odin checked the city, and then looked at Morgana giving her a disgusted glance before spurring his horse onward. Clearly Morgana's surprise attack was nothing of the sort.

…..

The white flag was a surprise. The fact it was not flown by Morgana but Odin instead not so much. They wished to parley. Arthur and Merlin grinned to each other. They had not found the kingdom as welcoming as they had hoped. No terrified, unprepared people screaming in the streets. Just calm, organised, resistance with no sign of the innocent population. Every man seen, a warrior, ready and willing for warfare. Perhaps if they could convince Odin to depart Morgana would be left with very few men. And they would save more of their subjects.

Arthur rode out. Gwaine, Leon and Merlin reassuring presences at his back. They met them half way to the tree line. The white flag limp and tied roughly to a hazel rod.

"Odin, Morgana." Arthur nodded to the other monarch and his sister regally. He rather thought he could afford to be gracious. There was no way these people could win. Of course they had no way of knowing they were already defeated. Even if the city fell the citizens would be safe. And it was the **people** who made Camelot, not the stones of the castle.

Morgana sat her horse, smirk less confident than usual, though still prominent. She would never understand. That to rule well was not to conquer, but to serve. It had taken seven years for that lesson to sink in but now it had he would never forget it. She looked his companions over disdainfully until it rested on Merlin Lurking slightly behind Arthur's back. Shabby servants garb prominent and neckerchief askew, sword belted at his hip. The smile turned vicious and hard, the hate fairly snapping from her gaze.

"I wonder brother at the company you keep." Oh she was fair spoiling for this fight, her sword skills taking second place only to her verbal sparring.

"It's the same as it always has been Morgana. There is nothing to wonder at."

"Hmm you always did prefer the riff raff. But I have noticed a pattern. Your nearest and dearest do seem to be able to pull the wool over your eyes all too easily." Arthur's eyes narrowed and Merlin reached out discreetly and tightened his grip on his arm.

"I wonder Merlin does Arthur know your little secret?" Merlin attempted to look thoroughly innocent. Secretly enjoying that they knew more than she for once.

"And I see you are still determined as ever to protect my brother. What good are you now Merlin? What will you do when I defeat your precious king?" She turned back to Arthur. "You would do well to surrender now Arthur. Your pathetic knights cannot stop me for long. We have magic on our side." Arthur gave a slow feral smile that completely unnerved his sister, and sent warning bells to Odin's brain.

"Ah well Morgana. It's a very tempting offer. But you see." And here he leaned in a little, voice pitched low as if sharing a secret. "So do we!" Morgana reared back.

"No Impossible. **Emrys is defeated**! I took his magic!" Arthur's look was pitying.

"Is he?"

"No you are bluffing. He is gone. I will take Camelot. And you will die!" The Morgana they had once known was gone. Completely subsumed beneath this pathetic mad woman. A woman who even now lifted her hand and cast all her pent up anger and desire to punish, literally throwing it at the party of four. _**"Slēan!"**_

"_**Geshieldan!"**_ The shield glowed gold around the king and the others. There was no doubt now that they did indeed have magic on their side. Merlin's hand outstretched. Eyes still glowing molten gold. He didn't need the incantation now, but Morgana might underestimate him if she did not know his true power. It was a small hope, but he could not pass the opportunity to sow the seeds of doubt.

"NO! You are not Emrys! No one could have escaped that curse! Parlour tricks will not help you." Her hand came up yet again.

"I don't think you quite get the concept of a white flag Morgana." Merlin's hand holding the shield pushed slightly and Morgana fell. Arthur looked at his sister with disgust. Then turned to his other gaping enemy.

"What say you Odin will you withdraw?"

"You killed my son. I will never bow to the likes of you." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And you and she killed my father! Will this cycle never end? Withdraw and we will not pursue."

"No, my son will have justice." One sentence. The man intractable and possibly just as mad as his sister. They were well matched it seemed.

"You are fighting for a lost cause. But you have chosen your side. Very well. Men?"

He wheeled Llamrei around and they galloped for the gate. Odin still sat staring after them. Morgana stunned upon the ground.

…..

Odin hauled the semi conscious Morgana over his horses withers and walked it back to his lines. He was furious with the witch. She had assured him it would be easy pickings. It was still within their grasp though he rather thought the cost to his troops would be a heavy one. No matter, any price would be worth bringing his son's murderer to justice. Arthur's sorcerer did not seem all that powerful just lucky. And Odin well knew the fickle hand of fate could be turned all too easily.

They would attack as soon as the witch recovered.

…..

Red fingers of the dawn spread across the sky. Rainclouds scudding across it lazily, and releasing a steady mizzle upon the defenders and attackers both. It would make the visibility and footing poor.

Rough shelters had been set against the inner walls, men huddled under the sheets of oiled linen, eating the dried meat and flat bread.

They had expected an assault last evening. Men rushing for the bows as soon as Arthur had cleared the gate, but it had never come. Standing for hours on high alert, until the order came to get some rest.

This was possibly more frightening than the fighting itself. The time winding nerves ever tighter, imagining the first waves of men and the first cries of the wounded. At least in battle there was no more time to think, the adrenalin flowing freely, releasing the constrained energy in physical movement and determination.

Arthur had spent the night in the council room. Merlin by his side. Going over the maps of the city once again. Then in walking the walls, a visible presence reassuring his men. Until Merlin had decided enough was enough. Arthur would do neither himself or his kingdom any good by exhausting himself before it had even begun properly. Conspiring with Gwen to get him off to his chamber to eat. And then Merlin spelled him to sleep. Knowing he could wake him at a moments notice. Merlin lay on the cot in the servant's anteroom and napped. Knowing as soon as the warning bell sounded he would be alert. He always was.

So when the bell did toll just as the sun rose watery and pale. Merlin jumped, removed his spell, and breakfasted as they walked back to the battlements.

…..

**A/N Spell translations**

**1) Slēan - slay/kill**

**2) Geshieldan - To shield/ protect**


	41. Chapter 40 Fight the good fight!

**A/N This is more like it. Wee bit more fighting in this. Though if it's still not enough just wait till the next one. He he!**

**If I did own Merlin do you really think I'd have to make up stories about him?**

…**..**

Chapter 40 Fight the good fight!

Merlin had never been great with a sword. He had never really seen a need for it. His magic after all more than compensated and to be perfectly honest he just wasn't built to be good with a conventional weapon. His skinny frame had built muscle over the years true. He wasn't an idle servant by any means and hauling buckets and plate metal armour everyday, meant his upper body strength was rather impressive. But the muscle he used for bathwater and carrying chainmail were not the same as those used for daily beating targets to a pulp with a sword. He knew the forms, could tell you the names of all of them, you couldn't watch knights train on a daily basis for seven years without knowing them and the moves to counter them. But his knowledge was mostly academic, not the instinctive kind the knights had. The muscle memory just wasn't there.

Projectiles on the other hand he was damned good with, especially cross bows. The fact that he used touches of magic to guide his aim to be true. Meant he was probably one of the best shots in Camelot, and he had trained himself to be as fast as possible on reloading. He had to admit his magic helped there too. He had a feeling he would be good at throwing knives also, if he ever gave himself the chance to get a feel for the balance of them.

So when the first wave of Odin's forces started running across the croppy grass to the gates of Camelot. Makeshift battering ram held by a dozen men and protected with cross bows and light leather shields. Merlin grabbed one of the bows resting ready at the side and started firing in a steady stream of death. He was using magic in a way none of the other men had expected, keeping its use for guiding the arrows. Never allowing any to miss a target and gaining respect for doing so amongst the other archers and bowmen along the wall. Arthur at the side of him, doing the same, cross bow of polished oak gleaming as bolt after bolt were released.

The attackers did not yet realise that the walls and gates had been spelled to withstand such an assault, and he wasn't about to tell them. Just kept on firing, even as more men replaced those he downed. Briefly wondering when they would realise their efforts were futile and finally give up.

…..

It had been a distraction. Morgana had found the shields on the castle gates and running over the stone around the whole city. Circling round, testing their weaknesses, running ladders up and sending men over the walls. They had kept the ram in place keeping the defenders in position as she made for the tunnels.

Finding them blocked had been the final straw. They were more crafty than she had given them credit for it seemed and now she would have to be as well.

She sent blasts of magic out turning the rubble to pebbles, and the pebbles to dust. They had a way in and when Arthur least expected it they would be overrun. Casting an illusion over the tunnel she had just cleared to show stone upon stone haphazardly obstructing the passage in case of curious guardsmen. They would wait until full dark, but now she needed to make an appearance lest her victims become suspicious.

And when the time came she would deal with that traitorous snake of a brother and his paltry sorcerer. It was obvious to her now. Emrys must have been teaching him. That was how the old man had known so much of her plans, how Merlin had become such a thorn in her side. And now Emrys was out of the way Merlin had come forward to help.

Her chuckle was in no way filled with humour. There was no way a stripling of a boy could best a high priestess. Let him try, he would lose in the worst way possible.

…..

The incursions had been going all day. Small bands testing their fortifications, at several points, hitting and running, keeping them on their toes. A sorcerer with each band making sure that they did damage with each successive hit. Merlin couldn't be everywhere and there had been several times when they had managed to launch a sizeable force up the ladders magical shields keeping the archers at bay long enough to mount an attack. The volunteers on the walls were kept busy sent running for more men, looking for the warlock when the sorcerers broke through.

Then there were the strongest of them. Those magic users with enough power to send ball after ball of fire and ice into the town, straight over the gates, Morgana stood smiling inanely.

Merlin deflected what he could sending it back into the enemy if he had the chance. Arthur or one of the round table a comforting presence at his side, holding off the soldiers whilst Merlin dealt with the magic.

He hadn't eaten all day. No time to stop, barely enough time to grab a ladle of water when the bucket was sent round. He could have done with several more magicians he thought. Leaning against the wall as yet another flaming projectile made itself known. This one heading towards the merchants district and the empty market. He sent out a tendril of his own power, wrapped it and sent it catapulting back at the lines of men on the ladders. Managing to hit a few enough to send both they, and their ladders plummeting in flaming agony to the ground.

It gained them a small respite at least, enough so he could slump down to sit on the stonework, back against the masonry, head bowed.

He was filthy, they all were and the air smelled strongly of burning straw. One of the fireballs having gotten through and landed in the pens for the pigs. Men had run to put it out and luckily since it was only the pens and not the outbuildings it hadn't caused too much damage but he cursed himself for being so distracted he'd missed it.

A hand appeared with a waterskin, and bread. Welcome relief and the warlock took it enthusiastically with a smile of thanks.

"You alright?" The concern apparent on Sir Bedivere's face.

"Yeah you?" He was favouring his left wrist slightly, bruising showing even through the grime.

"I've had worse. Hit it on the wall when we pushed a ladder over." He shrugged, it wasn't a big deal.

"Where's Arthur?" Bedivere's chin jerked, mouth full of bread. Merlin turned and saw him. Sat by a young lad struck with an arrow holding his arm, attempting to stop the bleeding enough to get him down to the infirmary. He ate the last of the bread and hauled himself to his feet. Walking over and around the resting men.

"Here let me see." The boy looked sixteen. Beardless and wide eyed. Giving Merlin a wary glance. "I won't hurt you. Please let me look." The boy's eyes cleared as he figured something out.

"You're the one as comes wi Gaius?" He looked happier as if the knowledge were the only thing holding him back. He hefted his arm out to the warlock and he took it gently. The arrow had gone right through the stick thin limb. Nasty, but not life threatening if they could stave off the bleeding and the infection, though the mobility of it would be impaired for some time.

"Can I heal you? I can't do all of it just close it enough to get you to Gaius, but may I?" The boys eyes were wide, clearly nervous but not really frightened. He was obviously made of stern stuff since he then nodded as if his head were on a spring.

Merlin placed his hands over both sides of the wounds and let the magic flow.

"_**þurhæle dolggbenn." **_The wound slowly stopped seeping and then closed a round pink scar each side of his arm the only outward evidence. The boy's eyes widened even further.

"Still 'urts!"

"It will. Magic can't do everything. It's best if it heals on its own but that would have bled too much." Merlin helped him up and sent him off with another runner.

"Alright Arthur?"

"Never better!" At least the sarcasm still worked. His king looked tired. Hand in his hair, matted with mud, blood and soot.

"They seem to be slowing. Will they stop do you think or keep up through the night?"

"Maybe. They can't keep this pace up for long." Another young lad ran up. A sorcerer had taken out Sir Devin and a dozen archers at the east gate and was holding the main force off with a shield whilst Odin's men poured over. They ran.

…..

Damn them. Merlin was better than she had expected. They had lost two sorcerers.

They would have to split the forces. Odin would slow the attacks until late evening. Lulling them into thinking they would stop to rest.

She would take their reserves through the siege tunnels. And then she would hunt those two down. No mere **boy** would stand in her way. He would be exhausted, whilst she was still fresh as a daisy. No man can stand against nine sorcerers all day and expect to then confront her at night and win. No-one was that powerful.

…..

**A/N Spell translations**

**1) þurhæle dolggbenn – Heal thoroughly the wound.**


	42. Chapter 41 Carry on this way

**A/N I really hate to do it to you folks but I have to split this in two. There just is no natural break except where I have left it. Hope you enjoy anyway and please don't kill me.**

…..

Chapter 41 Carry on this way.

'_Stupid! So stupid! He should have put magical barriers across the tunnels as well as barricading them with fallen masonry. Why did he never __**think**__?'_

…_..._

They had come running through the lower town from the siege tunnels. Warning bell blaring. Just as the men had settled down for an uneasy night.

Odin's forces had eased their skirmishes as the afternoon wore into evening and though Arthur had been wary, he was also somewhat grateful. The men needed rest. Sentries were posted, shifts established so the walls could still be manned by a third of the guards whilst the rest slept.

They had slumped where they had stood. Rolling into the oiled blankets given out to ward off the rain, and dropping almost immediately into exhausted slumber. The men had given their all, fighting valiantly all day and they needed it. The servants having come round earlier with vast tureens of warming soup they slurped directly from the bowls with great relish.

They'd had an hour at most. And then all hell broke loose!

…

Everywhere was fire and blood and chaos. Men in dark shabby clothing ran at those in red, screaming war cries and swinging swords. The scarlet cloaked knights never flinched, just kept charging into the fray, whirling masses of well disciplined limbs, hacking and slashing. Arcs of crimson flying and splattering the ground with drops of peoples lives.

The dampness of the stone from the light drizzling rain made the footing slick, legs slipping, balance precarious.

Smoke from the torches combined with the twilight and the darkening cloud filled sky that left a deepening gloom only broken by the fires that raged in the thatch and the few torches left with the men.

Arthur was of course in the thick of it, his bright gleaming blade twirling in a deadly dance, using his fists and elbows and knees as much as his weapon. Merlin never left him, running at his heels, eyes almost constantly aglow. He was pushing men back, tripping them, heating their hilts and running them through with his own sword.

The larger magic's had all gone by the wayside. Anything more than two words and Merlin didn't have time for it. It was all instinct. A deadly game of cut and slash and parry, hands outthrust and jerking chin.

There was a break in the seething black clad mass for a moment. A small pocket of relative calm by the south wall as the slash of crimson cloaks outnumbered the ratty black when the masses moved slightly. A knight grabbed Arthurs arm and swung, impaling a shrieking invader in the side and turned back to his monarch as Merlin silently thanked him.

"Sire they've broken through behind the tower. Two sorcerers, they just came over the wall, we couldn't hold them." It was Leon, filthy, blood dampened, breaths heaving and barely recognisable. Arthur nodded and followed, motioning Merlin forward. If it were sorcerers they would need his expertise.

They ran. Weaving through the bodies, cries of pain and bloodlust, mingling in the heavy air. Three crossbowmen rose up from the rubble of a destroyed blacksmith shop, taking aim. Merlin's hand went up glowing shield firmly planted in front of his king. The looks of surprise turned to startled pain filled yelps as the bolts turned on their owners and dug into shoulders and knees. Arthur looked back with his thanks but kept right on running.

…..

Odin had gone along with the plan to split the forces only to get rid of Morgana. It was never his intention to stay put like a pet hound begging for the leftovers. As soon as the witch disappeared, he gave over command to his second and followed her. The man knew him far too well to do anything other than what his sovereign would do, and he had been in charge many times before. He would manage the battle from here whilst Odin went hunting!

…

Why did evil sorcerers feel that fireballs were the answer to everything?

Merlin was heartily sick of the sight of them and would never touch that particular spell again. He was a little tired now. Alright a lot tired now, he just wanted these people to realise they were beaten and go home so he could curl up and sleep for a week. Arthur had already run one through. Too busy concentrating on Merlin to realise the king was creeping up behind him till the sword slid easily through his midriff and he fell with a look of surprise.

The other had been a little harder to kill. More wary perhaps than his fellow, he had magically pushed the king back into the remnants of the brewery (Gwaine would **not** be pleased!), and tried to do the same to Merlin. He obviously hadn't counted on facing an enraged warlock, however, as Merlin simply pulled the last remaining wall of the building down on top of him. It was possible that had been overdoing it a little, but the man had injured Arthur.

"_**Tidrenas!"**_ The spell easier now because the rainclouds were already here. He just had to persuade them to shed their load a little early. Merlin stood bent over. Hands on knees and breathing heavily from the run here and the choking smoke. The rain from his spell dousing the last flickers from the houses and businesses the fire had streaked through on its path of destruction.

Arthur had gone to check on Leon, laying behind them. A piece of clay brick having flown at his back and knocked him to the ground. Arthur's arm was dangling. He would have to check if it were broken in a moment. When he got his breath back.

…..

Morgana stalked her prey. Her sword flashing as much as her eyes as she walked steadily through the town. Leaving a trail of broken bodies in her wake.

Odin at the opposite end, did the same.

…..

Leon's back was severely bruised down the right side, and he almost certainly had at least two broken ribs.

Arthur's arm might be broken or just severely sprained, he couldn't tell for the swelling. Merlin used his neckerchief for a makeshift sling, since he was adamant he wouldn't be taken to Gaius just yet. Stubborn clotpole.

Several knights and garrison soldiers had come flying past. Telling tales of yet **another** sorcerer wreaking havoc near the guardhouse. Merlin made to follow, but they told him not to worry they had a couple of archers and a herdsman with a very handy sling they'd taken one out with it already and had a strategy in place. It was almost as if they were enjoying this. A couple of the knights stayed to help them taking Leon's good arm draping it over one of their shoulders and walking him back to the citadel.

"You look done in." Merlin chuckled, his king looked about as good as he felt. Arthur snorted seating himself on a boulder that used to be part of the doorway at one point, sword dipping, tip held to the ground.

"You're not exactly a picture of health yourself." It was true. Merlin's jacket would never be the same again. Ripped, bloodstained and covered in mud from the rain and tripping over a loose brick in the dark. A cut above his eye dripped crimson down his face. Numerous bruises, grazes and scratches covered him from head to toe. He limped slightly too, also from the brick but he wasn't about to tell Arthur that.

"Oh I'm fine. Walk in the park this!" He grinned and set off to find more trouble. Arthur close on his heels.

…..

Morgana was having trouble finding her quarry. They were proving elusive. Hitting her soldiers and then melting away. She was seriously angry now. No matter. If she couldn't go to them, she would make them come to her. The citadel loomed and she knew just the person to help. Willingly or most assuredly **not**!

…..

The infirmary had been filling steadily all day. Casualties spilling into the corridors as the worst cases took the beds and the walking wounded just flopped wherever they could find a spare patch of floor.

Gaius's army of volunteers assessed, treated and bandaged. There had been no stopping. The flow constant. Cries of pain and agony intermingling with the gentle voices of reassurance and apology as a wound was washed or pulled and caused more pain.

Leon had been through, waving him off when he made to assess him. Telling him it was just broken ribs, Merlin had checked and he could wait for the bandaging, he'd be fine so long as he didn't move. Shaking his head Gaius moved off to a young man with a slash on his leg.

Gwen migrated amongst her people. Old lilac dress swishing as she walked between the beds, carrying another basket of linen bandages. Pausing to speak to a knight on one side, and the baker on the other, both brought in from an attack at the main gates. This was the people's queen. No distinguishing between the ranks. They were all equal in her eyes and the whole kingdom loved her for it.

Khilgarrah at the other end of the long room looked over those who had not yet had someone to check their wounds. To his considerable surprise and Gaius's he had found he could diagnose the severity of their condition with a look and a hand placed against a person's skin. He now carried a basket of ribbon handing or tying coloured cloth in order of treatment. Those in need of immediate care and those who could wait a while.

They had been told a while back by a breathless Sir Elyan that the lower town had been breached. Morgana punching a hole through their hasty defences in the siege tunnels. That they would need to prepare for more casualties and that there would be a ring of defenders for the citadel steps. He had been gone again in minutes. Gwen staring after him with worry only long enough for the next cry of pain to register, then shrugging and turning back to their needs.

…..

The knights at the doors stood no chance. Bodies flying back to land unmoving on the steps. The great wooden doors offering equally ineffectual resistance.

The warriors in the corridors valiantly trying to engage, but she whirled like a dervish, thrusting her sword through their armour like butter. The infirmary had always been set up in the small hall. She knew where she needed to be and there was no stopping her.

The injured in the passage outside the hall held no interest, injured as they were they could offer no resistance as she flung the doors back with enough force to partly snap them from their hinges. They swung drunkenly as she surveyed the shocked room.

And there they were. Gaius paused in the act of bandaging a knight's ankle. Gwen, bottle in hand wide eyes matching those of her patient. She made to stride forward to strike when a man came forward. Placing himself in harms way, blocking her view of her bait.

"Out of my way!" The magic pulsed behind her eyes and the man was hit. Falling heavily to one side.

"Khilgarrah!" The shocked cry echoing in the mostly silent room. She ignored it, eyes intent on her former maidservant, backing hastily away from her now advancing form.

…..

It was like a punch to the gut, doubling him over and making him retch. Arthur skewered the man trying to take advantage of his discomfort to decapitate him and grabbed his shoulder trying to see where he was hurt.

"I'm alright. It wasn't me!" The comment made no sense.

"What the hell, Merlin?"

"Khilgarrah! He was hit with magic, he's fine, I think but it can only be one person. Arthur we have to get back. Morgana's in the infirmary!" It took just one second for Arthur's mind to remember who else was in there and made to run again. Merlin held on tight.

"No Arthur. We'd never make it!"

"**We have to try!" **

"I know. Do you trust me?" Arthur just looked at him as if he had just grown an extra limb. "Do you trust me?" Merlin's tone was now desperate.

"Of course I do!"

"Good! Then hold on tight because I've never done this before!" Arthur gripped him as if his life depended on it, the wind whipping round them and Arthur made one half hearted attempt to say his name as his friends eyes flashed the now familiar gold. "_Mer_…"

The last of the wind rustled down the now empty side street.

…..

**A/N Spell translations.**

**1) Tidrenas – Timely rain**


	43. Chapter 42 An end and a beginning

**A/N As promised the last battle scenes. Hope it was as thrilling to read as it was to write. I think I might have got he hang of this. He He!**

**Merlin would never tell anyone he didn't belong to me he's too nice, though he does happen to be a consummate liar!**

…..

Chapter 42 An end and a beginning.

Nothing had ever prepared Arthur for the sensation of being pulled into a million tiny pieces and then reassembled after flying through the air or wherever the hell that was.

"…_lin!"_ Eeeuuugh was the room supposed to be spinning? Oh he really didn't feel well. He would kill that idiot warlock if Morgana didn't get there first.

That was a point. Where was Merlin? He tried to focus on his surroundings.

The groan came from the vicinity of his feet. And there he was, paler than usual, black hair sticking up in multiple directions and coated in a fair few disgusting substances, clothing beyond repair and at this precise moment, sounding as though he were being killed by a torturer.

He managed to turn his head a bit and actually look at Arthur. "You have my permission to kill me if I ever suggest doing that again." Arthur managed to get his bearings and his senses in order long enough to haul his friend to his feet.

"Don't be an idiot Merlin. I'm the king. I don't need your permission!" Merlin was decidedly unsteady. Arthur only felt dizzy and slightly nauseous because of it, and that was already fading. He couldn't imagine how much worse Merlin might be feeling having had to cast the spell. "Come on, seems your aim was a bit off we need to get down to the hall."

"Wasn't actually." Arthur looked incredulous. "Well there will be too many people there right now. I couldn't take the risk of landing **in** someone now could I? Had to think of somewhere close where there weren't going to be as many." Arthur now looked horrified at the implication and turned a shade greener. Alright he had a point. And the store room they had landed in was guaranteed to be empty but literally just round the corner from the infirmary.

…..

"Keep away Morgana."

"Guinevere, my dear. Don't you know you can't order me to do anything?" The tone was light almost playful, But it was belied by the unholy glint of insanity held within her. Guinevere felt more than just merely afraid. She was absolutely petrified, not just for herself but for all the wounded too.

She kept backing up, trying to keep Morgana's attention on her, leading her to somewhere less crowded, giving them a little more space.

"Oh my dear don't run away. I only want to talk." Morgana's eyes lit up the dull gold she had come to fear from this woman and then found her limbs no longer obeying her. _**"Gehealdan **__**ætstandan!"**_

"What do you want Morgana?" She was rather proud that her voice was not as wobbly as she felt.

"I want my crown. And you're going to help me get it."

"Never. I would never help you do anything."

"Oh but you don't have to do anything except be my bait. Goodness knows why but my brother seems to like you. So just stand there and wait for my brother to come." Guinevere's terror must have shown on her face despite her best efforts, because Morgana's smirk grew, reaching out and stroking one black gloved finger down her cheek to her chin, grabbing her jaw and shaking her head. "Don't be so worried, you'll be together. I'll make sure of it!" The threat in the tone was deadly despite the tone being so soft and the pat on the cheek was just shy of a slap. Gwen struggled to free herself, to no avail. It was like being wrapped in a spider web, and Morgana the black widow. Roving her eyes around the parts of the room she could still see, she realised no-one else could move either. They were all frozen in some strange tableau.

All except Khilgarrah, it seemed. She wondered if his being a creature of magic, a Dragon no less, made it so the magic just flowed over him. It wasn't as if she could ask him he still wasn't in any condition to help. Sat shaking his head as if clearing it gaze unfocused. Merlin had told them he could not be killed easily, but from what she could see he could be hurt. She had to keep Morgana talking. Keep the woman's eyes away from the dragon, and on her. Perhaps Khilgarrah could then sneak out and find his Dragonlord. She could really use Merlin's help right now.

"Why are you doing this? What did we ever do to you?"

"You took my throne! **I** am queen! I am the only Pendragon who will give my people freedom!" Morgana was truly gone. Her friend hollowed out and left filled with bitterness, jealousy, and a hate so vast if she did gain the throne it would make Uther's tyrannical rule look like a fun filled picnic. Her heart ached for what she had become.

"But your not queen! You never were! It is not your destiny to be so! And your idea of freedom Morgana is an illusion!" Morgana whirled to the doorway.

Gwen sighed in relief. They were here. Merlin stood tall, in his element. He looked like a king. Arthur at his side majestic and assured. They had always stood together, now they stood as equals. They both looked like hell, but she had never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Well brother. It seems I was right and you just cannot stay away."

…..

The tide was turning at last. The last three sorcerers of Morgana's army, looking dead on their feet, cornered in a blind alley just behind the merchant's livery stable.

Two were still on their feet, swaying slightly with fatigue, the third on his knees. Clutching at the arrow struck through his shoulder, whiter than the finest linen and about to pass out.

Their spells had been fizzling. So the knights had goaded them into firing off as many as possible whilst they ran them ragged in the hope it would exhaust them enough to not be able to cast. They had dodged though a few had gotten through. Five of their own lay on the floor, unsure if they were deceased yet or not.

Gwaine, hotheaded and quite frankly reckless when it came to fights where odds were so heavily stacked against him. Took a firmer grip on his sword and waded into the fray.

Perceval behind him signalled to the archers to hold back whilst they had a go.

The two sorcerers looked terrified, unarmed except with their magic they saw the advancing forms of the two knights and tried another spell. The ball of ice formed between their hands but as soon as they released it, it faded. Gwaine and Perceval held out their weapons and the men surrendered.

There was a collective sigh of relief, they had led them a merry chase. The evidence of how dangerous they were scattered around them.

"Sorry about this." Gwaine hit the nearest one on the back of his head with the hilt of his sword as he secured his hands in back. Perceval punched the other, head snapping. They crumpled, unconscious, to join their already knocked out companion on the ground.

"Can't take chances till we've got them back where they can't use their magic." The men looked resigned. It wasn't particularly honourable to knock out prisoners who had just surrendered but they knew it needed to be done.

Their five fallen comrades testament to that fact.

The guardsmen swiftly assessed the condition of their fallen friends and lifted them up on makeshift stretchers made of the knights cloaks, carting them off to the infirmary.

They were not so gentle with the sorcerers.

There were just three knights left in the alley. Gwaine, Perceval and Sir Mostyn, taking a moment to just breathe.

"I think we have them on the run."

"Bloody hope so. I need a drink."

"Gwaine. You always need a drink."

"Goes to show I don't always get one then." His grin was infectious, a release of tension they badly needed after today. Sir Mostyn was leaning heavily against the wall. Gwaine at his side sword in the dirt.

No-one noticed Odin and two of his soldiers rounding the almost destroyed wall of the livery. Until the sound of a footfall gave them a seconds notice. Gwaine had never moved as fast, swords rang as he blocked the swing meant for Mostyn. Dull clangs and a harsh cry sounded, but he was too focused on the fight.

Odin was a very accomplished swordsman, but his age was against him. The speed of youth, giving way, to the aches and scars of a lifetime of battle wounds. Gwaine's swordsmanship second only to Arthur had the man panting after only a short while, he still held on, grim determination alone managing to push Gwaine back into the rubble strewn alley. Gwaine backed up, foot going over on a badly balanced slab, tumbling him to the floor. He still had his sword but Odin now had height and manoeuvrability. The man took a step forward into a puddle. His foot sank deeper than it really should have in a hidden pothole and there was an audible snap as he pitched forward with a yell, managing to avoid Gwaine's sword but not the rest of the stonework. Head hitting an exposed corner and leaving a bloody trail down the slick rock as he slumped.

"Well **that** was anticlimactic!" Perceval's opponent had been dispatched with ease, and Mostyn had just finished his, turning round to find the enemy king out cold next to Gwaine.

"He dead?" Mostyn gestured with his sword. Gwaine checked his pulse.

"No but I don't think he'll want to wake up for a while, that will be one hell of a headache. Think he broke his ankle too." A slow grin spread across his features, "You know since I just defeated Odin, I may have just turned the battle. Think Arthur will pay my tab at the rising sun in celebration?" Percival's answering grin was evil.

"Not if I tell him you did it whilst copying **Merlin's** sword fighting skills." Even Sir Mostyn laughed and he could swear that man hadn't been happy in years. Gwaine pouted. Life was just not fair.

…..

"Merlin so good of you to join us. I was not expecting you so soon."

"You know me. Can't keep a lady waiting." The look directed not at Morgana but at Gwen left no doubt as to whom he meant. Morgana was livid. "Are you well Gwen?"

"Can't move, but fine otherwise." Merlin satisfied for the moment turned back to the witch. "Let them go Morgana. It's us you want." Morgana seemed to be pondering the question though Merlin knew she would never give in. He just had to try, one last time to turn her from this path. "Morgana please! What happened to turn you so bitter? You know as well as I the throne is not yours to take." Morgana drew herself up, visibly shaking with rage.

"You dare stand there and ask me what happened. You who betrayed me when I felt so lost and alone." She was advancing on the warlock with tense controlled steps, Merlin stood his ground. "You poisoned me! You who I thought a friend." Arthurs flinch and look of horror convinced Merlin he perhaps should have gotten this out in the open before Morgana's plans came to fruition. Morgana saw it and jumped. "Oh did he not tell you. All I have become can be laid at **his** feet!" Merlin's jaw tightened and his next words were explosive.

"You betrayed us long before I had to take action against you! You conspired with Tauren before your magic was even an issue, or had you forgotten that. My first year here and you tried to kill the king! I take it Morgause also neglected to tell you that you were the vessel for her spell, she used you, and yet you still were hers. To break it, to save **everyone else** I had to kill you! There **was** no other choice, such spells cannot be broken without destroying the vessel and you know it! It broke me to do it Morgana but you had already picked your side and it was not with us!"

Arthur felt broken. Such hate. Now he knew, yet another tragedy to add to the growing pile, had there been nothing good in the last seven years. Everything he ever knew, piled so precariously balanced on a knife edge and ready to fall.

Morgana couldn't stand for Merlin of all people to defile her sister's memory, her temper getting the better of her, she screamed out her rage, as she had done once before in the throne room, when they had gone after the cup of life. Merlin, anticipating something since she had never had good control of her emotions, held his magic just under his skin. As soon as the first waves of sound emerged, he let loose, magic swirling out, the intent to protect all those in the room. Morgana's strength was great and he was bone weary from fighting all day. He held just, but the effort cost him and he could not help letting tendrils through. The force knocking everyone away, Arthur fell hitting his back and head on the furniture. Merlin Staggered back but managed to keep his feet. He was the only one.

…..

They took Odin to the dungeon. They were filling rapidly, several men held in each cell. The men in the city, being pushed and pushed until they surrendered. There were still pockets of resistance but the weary men could now count the victory as theirs, the last of them would be hunted down and the battle won.

They removed themselves from the vicinity and went to help round up the stragglers.

…..

She stood there surrounded by devastation. Every person within the immediate vicinity thrown back, dead or bleeding on the hard floor. The light of madness in her eyes and a visage as harsh and hard as chiselled granite. What had happened to the kind young woman they had known. She had been so full of light when Merlin had first known her. But the seeds had been planted and out of them had grown a twisted black vine that had strangled the good within. A parasite fed on her need for vengeance. All Merlin felt was regret. His heart stuttered as he stood above his injured king. He had checked his pulse and he was still alive, though for how long with Morgana's mask of death descending he didn't know. He was so very nearly spent. The magic within still pulsing strongly but his body had gone so far past his reserves it was a wonder he was still on his feet. In a word he drooped. And no matter how hard he tried he could not give any other impression. Morgana knew it. He could see it, in the look of complete insane glee.

Merlin still stood. Would still defend his king and the people with everything he had left. He just wondered now whether it would be enough.

"What now **Merlin**? Feeling a little tired?" The mocking tone so vicious but so very reminiscent of her put downs when he first knew her. "Lets see if we can't get you to rest. Permanently!" Her hand came up _**"Akwele!"**_ The killing curse flew and he held up his hand the shield already forming in his thoughts, but it stuttered and left and the curse kept right on coming.

Merlin's eyes widened as he saw his death coming towards him and he gave a sharp cry flinging up his arm. The last of his reserves acting on instinct, no intent, no thought other than to save them all. The curse hit whatever he had conjured and a crash as loud as thunder rolled through the infirmary and everything went white.

Time stopped. No sound. No movement other than Merlin's arm descending slowly from where he had shielded his eyes. And a flutter of pale cloth in a breeze of no earthly origin.

The woman stood smiling slightly. Auburn curls dancing with the slightest movement of her head. Youth and power and beauty radiating from her.

Morgana was nowhere to be seen, but where she had stood, sat a dragon egg. Teardrop shaped perfection. Deepest crimson at the base leading up to a gentle gold tinged cream at the tip. Utterly sublime.

Merlin could do nothing but gape.

"Emrys." The word was a caress. Full of love and humour. A world of care hidden within it. It enfolded him, wrapped him in gentle bonds, and it felt like coming home.

…..

A**/N Spell translations.**

**1) Gehealdan ****ætstandan – Hold, stand still**


	44. Chapter 43 The Gods pathway

**A/N This was hard! Have you ever thought, ohhh that's such a good idea I have to do that, only to try it and suddenly realise you are way over your head. THIS WAS IT! **

**Don't make me do that again. If I suggest it, slap me I'll deserve it.**

…

Chapter 43 The Gods pathway.

Merlin **knew** this woman. On some deep level of his subconscious she had always been there.

"My son." The words made no sense. There was some mistake here.

"I'm sorry. I don't know you. My mother is Hunith." The woman nodded, not seeming fazed by this statement. She must be one of the unfortunate people who suffered from some mental affliction. She had latched on to Merlin as a son and utterly believed it. Though why it should be happening now…

Perhaps he had died, or was having some weird delusional dream whilst screaming his last on the floor of the destroyed infirmary. That particular thought was rather disturbing and Merlin shied instinctively from it. Though the explanation was as good as any, this situation was far from ordinary and quite incomprehensible. His weary mind just too tired to try.

"Why do you believe I'm your son?" She laughed bell like, delicate and joyful.

"Because you **are** Emrys. You are just as much my son as you are Hunith's. We have watched you grow from afar. Knowing what you would be." Perhaps he should have felt discomfited at knowing this woman had been stalking him as a child but there was a pervasive sense of calm in the air that kept his agitation and fear at bay. He knew instinctively she meant no harm, quite the opposite in fact. Seeing his obvious confusion, the woman took pity on him and gestured him to walk with her.

"Come. I will explain, and there is something I need to show you." Merlin observed the circle of his friends unmoving around them. "Time has stopped for them Emrys. There are things you need to know and it will take me a little while for you to understand." Too weary to do otherwise, Merlin nodded and followed her.

…..

The castle was eerie like this, people stood frozen, paused in the act. Silence reined and the apprehension returned. Who was this person, Merlin's senses were quiet, inactive, and the unease at the situation grew.

"There is no need to fear me Emrys." She reached back and took his hand and a sense of profound peace washed over him. Merlin couldn't help it his eyes grew heavy and he had to close them. "Can't have that. I'm sorry. You can sleep, but later, here." The next wave was euphoric. No other word could describe it. He felt like he'd had a full nights sleep, all his nerve endings zinging. His eyes shot open and he could feel his eyes blazing. "What was that?!" She chuckled.

"Energy! Just a little. Enough so you won't simply collapse. You needed it I think. You did well today." There was nothing he could think of to explain this. It was so far outside of his experience it may as well have been another life entirely. "I am Frige." She carried on walking, tugging him along.

That name. It teased at his comprehension, as if he had heard it before somewhere. Yet another puzzle.

"Where are we going?" He had always been inquisitive, a permanent lament of his mother. It had served him well in his bid to protect the prince and now king.

"I think it better if I show you. An explanation without seeing would not give you an adequate description I think." There was really nothing more he could say to that. The message clear, be patient and all would be revealed.

They wound down under the castle, farther than anyone had ever been, except perhaps the original architects of the city and its keep. The corridors becoming ever smaller, gloomier and more oxygen deprived. Merlin's breaths started to come in short pants, the air getting less and less. Just where was she taking him? Frige must have heard his distress, turning back. "Oh this will not do!" She threw up a hand and a wind blew down the passages bringing sweet smelling air in its wake. Merlin stared. That was magic, just like his, no incantations really needed, but Frige's eyes never burned, the tell tale gold absent. "We are nearly there." She rounded a curve and took the illumination with her, he had not realised she had been lighting the way, until it had gone. He hurried to catch up, almost running into her back until he realised she had stopped. He stepped around her and his jaw literally dropped.

…..

Gold. For as far as his eyes could see. Flowing rivulets of molten power coalesced in the centre of the massive cavern as a ball of pure white and gold light. Its diameter just a little larger than he was tall, pulsing and shining like a miniature sun trapped within the confines of the earth.

It was breathtaking. Warm and familiar and so very alive. He turned to the woman, having to tear his eyes from the sight. He could look at this all day and never see everything.

"Alright you have my attention. What is this?"

"This is your birthright." His **what! **This just had to start making sense at some point. Frige drew Merlin down to sit on the edge of rock jutting from the passageway.

"Please what is this?" His voice small there was something here he needed to know, something calling to him. He needed to understand.

"Your destiny Emrys, does not just lie with Arthur. He is a big part yes. Perhaps the biggest since he is the one who has led you to it. But it will not end with him. There is something else you were born to do." She paused as if to gauge that he was indeed following her story. Merlin merely nodded, rendered mute.

"Uther's madness had undone the balance of the world to such a degree it needed to be rectified or the world would cease. To have too much or too little magic free upon the earth is to create chaos. And when Uther started the purge he left too much unfettered. It needed to go somewhere or tear this world apart. Amaethon is the god of magic, and he directed all of it into a vessel we prepared ready for it. A vessel he gave part of his soul to create. As did I. I am Frige, Goddess of the earth and its life." Merlin reared, she was a goddess? And she claimed kinship with him? Oh lord no.

"The Vessel? It was me?" He had shrunk into himself not sure if he could handle its

being true. She could sense his distress.

"Merlin, Hunith and Balinor **were** your parents. You were conceived of their love. But Amaethon and I, we gave of ourselves in your creation. You could not have withstood the strength of magic you wield without it. We are your parents as much as they, and we love you just as much. We watched over you as you grew, we are so very proud of you." She had taken his hand again. He was grateful, the panic had been building and the waves of tranquillity she exuded were sorely needed if he were not to become a shivering wreck. To stay the course and complete his understanding, to rationally ask the questions he needed answers to now and figure out his new place in the world.

"Why did you pick me? Why not Arthur?"

"Arthur has his own part to play. And we needed someone with an already deep connection to magic for this to succeed. You are a Dragonlord, the connection dormant but there none the less. And Arthur had already been born. We could not do this with a person who already knew the world. Young though he was Arthur did know his place in it. Being the once and future king would merely be an extension of who he is not a completely different one. Just as being Emrys is an extension of who you are, you already had the spark of magic from Balinor. We merely gave you a way to utilise more."

"Why though? What am I supposed to do?" Merlin had a feeling this task he was supposed to fulfil was why he was called Emrys. He was quite sure at this moment in time he would not like it.

"We need to make sure this never happens again. We need a guardian, to maintain the delicate balance and keep the earth alive and thriving." Merlin's head was in his free hand. "We have become too far removed from those who populate our creation, we needed you, a man born of the gods and the mortals they oversee, to bridge the gap." It was too big. Expanding at too fast a rate he could not keep up. Even with the gentle fingers grasping his and keeping his all too human emotions subdued.

"I know this is all strange and overwhelming, we will help. I promise. But you need to know the whole and then we can help you assimilate it, alright?" Another nod, a deep breath and he could carry on. He hated to think what he would be like without Frige there to quash the trepidation, and keep his thoughts running smoothly.

"These are the ley lines I tapped into when I made the shield? Khilgarrah told me he couldn't sense them. That they had never been here whilst he was kept prisoner. How? You say they are my birthright, what does that mean?"

"They aren't ley lines like those you find across the rest of Albion. You cannot take this from the earth. This is the heartbeat, the life of Albion. It has always been here but only a god can feel it, see it, touch it. It is part of your heritage. This is not human or dragon magic Merlin this is the power of creation itself. You cannot use it like you can the magic in the ley lines, it is of the earth and must be used for the earth. What you did when you brought it forth was to make Albion rise up and claim the castle as its own. Camelot is now as much a part of the natural landscape as the mountains, the valleys and the fields. The shield you raised will allow Camelot to stand as long as the landscape around it."

"You will learn how to guide it, how to make the earth prosper and how to create life. You have the power to mirror life and death, you learnt this when you defeated Nimueh. A rare skill even amongst sorcerers of great power, this does not require the same price. This merely needs a piece of yourself. Everything you make from this will become your child, just as we gave of ourselves to create you. It is a power only a god may wield."

"So why now. You and Amaethon decided I'd grown up enough to handle the responsibility?"

"You have been handling it since you turned seventeen Merlin. Your destiny called and even a god must answer that. That was not the problem, the road you were set upon by others would have resulted in something we could not allow. A mistake made that would have resulted in Arthur's premature death, before he had completed his vital role." Merlin had paled. The worst thing he could think of would be Arthur dying because he was not good enough or fast enough.

"My mistake?"

"No and I am not about to tell you either, that path is no more. The one you now follow may still change course but Arthur will be able to fulfil his purpose. Whichever direction it may take. All the prophecies will be fulfilled." There was something significant in the way she said **all **that made Merlin wonder which other prophesies she meant. He filed it away for later and returned to the tale.

"We bent the rules a little, to safeguard the future of both you and Albion. I am sorry we had to put you through this. I forget you are so very young and untested as a god. You will grow into your heritage, we have given you the time now to do so." Merlin took his hand back, feeling steadier. Having had time to see the picture she wove, without his mind firing unhelpful hormones through sheer panic and clouding his thinking. He thought now he might be able to handle this.

"So what happens now? What did you do to Morgana?"

"She could not be allowed to live as she was. She was the key to her own and several others' destruction. But to kill her would remove yet another powerful magic from its bindings. We saw a way to remove her and yet build hope." Merlin now had a look of deep concentration trying to piece the fragments together.

"The egg? You…what…made her into a dragon? How? Why?"

"What happened to Morgana was not entirely her fault." Merlin's sudden stricken glance had Frige hastily reassuring him. "Nor was it yours! Fate played a hand, as did a certain Dragon, but Morgause used Morgana no matter that she did love her. The healing bracelet she gave her held an enchantment that would leave her open to suggestions from her sister and stop her questioning her too deeply. A subtle manipulation, but devastating when each successive intimation was voiced. Morgana became her sisters' puppet, all the while believing all the thoughts to be hers. By the time she opened the veil, the poison was too deeply entrenched. She could not be brought back without drastic measures. This was as much an endeavour to reclaim her and bring forth something good from it as it was to give you back yours and Arthur's lives."

"So the egg, why?"

"Merlin. Two male dragons between them cannot save the dragon race!" Merlin blushed. "When Morgana sent that curse towards you in the infirmary. Your exhaustion meant your temperamental human magic couldn't be called on reliably instead you pulled instinctively from your soul, and your soul is your link to this place's power. Your thought, only to **save everyone**, meant we could give Morgana a second chance. You killed the Morgana who would seek to harm but freed her soul and bound it to the egg. Your Dragonlord abilities guided you, with a little help from me. Morgana is no more. But her spirit lives within the new life we have created. Just as prophesised you became Morgana's doom and also her destiny."


	45. Chapter 44 Higher power

**A/N I am so sorry for this spectacularly late update. I was going to post this last evening, however I was to spend the night at my dad's house and go out for my son's birthday with him today. I managed to pack the laptop cable but left the laptop sat in the middle of the floor, seriously I should not have been able to miss it. I must have either,**

**A) lost more grey cells than I thought.**

**B) I am going utterly blind. Or**

**C) and I support this theory 100% I blame my sister who picked me up early and therefore sent me briefly batty. **

…..

Chapter 44 Higher power.

Processing such monumental, life changing knowledge was proving a little difficult as the energy Frige had gifted him with started to seep slowly away.

He knew what she had told him was true. Somehow he had always known. The knowledge buried deep just waiting for the right moment to emerge, grow and flourish, just as a seedling after rain.

Frige had left him alone for a spell. Giving him the space he needed to think and reconcile his new self. But as his strength began to wane she came back and led him back through the passages.

"What happens when we get back to the infirmary? The battle?"

"You have won. Your friends have captured Morgana's ally and he is even now in prison awaiting Arthur. I would wait before hatching the new Dragon I think. You cannot afford to think of her as Morgana. She is the witch no longer. She is a new life innocent and untainted. When you are ready you will give her a name and call her from the egg. Aithusa will know her, it is why he was allowed to stay with her so long. Their souls are bound and they already love each other. It is the only thing of her old life she will retain." Silence for a while. There seemed to be no end of complex ideas he must confront.

Should he tell Arthur? He was really unsure how he would react to finding out. He had promised himself he would never keep anything from them again. But …how do you tell someone you have just found out you are a child of a god? That you will live longer than any ordinary man has a right to. They would worry, and change their outlook about him completely. Treat him differently. He had only just gained their acceptance, he could not bear to see them looking with something resembling awe or fear. It was an uncomfortable sensation even amongst the druids who did not know him and had no personal bearing on his life.

"I think…perhaps the egg should be concealed for a while. I need to tell Arthur and Khilgarrah something, I just have no idea precisely what."

"I will explain to Khilgarrah. And your friends will understand if you wait until after you have had a chance to recover. You are still human for all that you carry our spirit. And this has been a revelation not so easy to absorb.

Don't wait too long before you seek your bed. The energy I gave you will not last forever and fighting all day is I believe rather tiring." That was quite an understatement, he was flagging even now, the door to the infirmary in sight. Everyone still exactly where they had stood before.

There was an overturned basket for bandages by the door. Merlin grabbed it and wrapping the egg in one of the blankets placed it reverently inside, and covering it with another hiding it under a table.

"Will you stay? Or will you leave as soon as Khilgarrah has been informed?"

"I will leave. It will complicate things for me to remain, but I will come back."

Merlin nodded and Frige moved away from the frozen king, blending into the background amongst the people, before sending out a wave of power that would allow the flow of time to resume.

…..

Arthur groaned. What on earth? Morgana!

He lifted his head painfully. That and his back throbbed unmercifully, Merlin still stood where he had last seen him but he was the only one. Everyone else appeared to be as well off as he himself was and Morgana was nowhere to be seen. Of course from this angle it was a little hard to tell. He flopped back down with an audible sigh. Merlin hadn't seemed worried so whatever had happened Morgana was no longer a threat.

Merlin must have heard the slight noise. His face coming into view. "Sorry, I couldn't keep everything out. She hadn't been fighting all day." Gentle hands checked him over. "I think it's just bruising. I'll keep an eye on the head injury but I don't think you've got any permanent damage. So if you'll permit, I need to check everyone else."

"Guinevere? Gaius?"

"Knocked out I think. I was just about to look them over." Arthur waved him off needing to know his wife and the physician were being looked after. He attempted to stand up knowing he needed to help. There were low moans and a few of the less seriously wounded came in to help from the corridor ignoring their own hurts to take care of Morgana's victims.

He stood slowly making his way over to where he had last seen his wife taking care since he was sore and his balance was a little off.

Merlin had the queen laid out, fingers on her neck checking her pulse, as soon as Arthur rounded the pillar he looked up. "She's a bit bruised and battered, but she'll be fine I think. Much like you sire." He smiled at his king then gave him Gwen's hand as he made his way over to his mentor.

Gaius was already stirring. Not a visible mark on him except one small cut above his eye that dripped blood steadily into his white hair. His pulse was good and since he was already making his way to consciousness, he left him in the capable hands of Bette, who had been fetching more water when Morgana appeared.

Next up was a knight older than the average with a grey specked beard and who had already sported a sword slash to the chest before Morgana's little spell. He now had a cut on his shoulder and bruises all down the same side from colliding with the edge of the next bed and then the floor. The bleeding was heavy from the slash and the man's pulse fluttery. Merlin healed him as much as he could and moved to the next swaying as he stood.

The room had been full of battered and bleeding fighters, before they had been thrown. All the worst of the medical cases. And some had succumbed to the new force battering their already weakened bodies. Six more people dying for Morgana's revenge, wrapped in sheets and laid respectfully at the other end of the room. Merlin shook his head sadly at the sheer unnecessary waste of it all and carried on treating the rest of her targets.

It was whilst he was trying unsuccessfully to tie off a bandage on one of the volunteers' arms and not making a very good job because his vision kept wavering, that he felt a hand on his shoulder as another young woman volunteer knelt beside him. She took the bandage from his wavering fingers gently and took over, deftly tying it and then helping the older woman to her feet and then a chair.

Merlin stayed where he was resting slightly against the side wall, gaze unfocused, and moving around the room lazily. Noting without much interest that there were now more people moving around than not now. Resting back on his heels, hands lax in his lap and feeling older than dragoon.

…..

He must have dozed off where he sat. He woke when Arthur shook his shoulder. Neck stiff and sore from staying in an awkward position for so long. All the myriad injuries he received in the battle now made themselves known and all his muscles protested as Arthur hauled him unceremoniously to his feet.

"Come on, you can't stay here all night." No he supposed there was a battle to clean up after and the last of Odin's men still to vanquish. He sighed wearily and headed out to the city, or at least tried to. The hand on his bicep made him look down and then up into his king's face in obvious confusion not realising he had spoken aloud. "You've done enough Merlin. Go eat, get a wash and sleep you'll feel like hell in the morning trust me I know, but you'll feel worse if you don't. I'm off to mine in a few moments."

Merlin was numb, so tired he just allowed a subdued Khilgarrah, sporting a bandage round his head to guide him from the room. They didn't go far, one of the guest rooms had a meal, bath and one of Arthurs's spare shirts laid out ready.

"Arthur thought you would do better in here tonight. The physician's rooms are in a bit of a state since Gaius and a few of the other volunteers were out of commission to see to the wounded. Those volunteers still standing were so outmanned whilst treating patients they had to send the guardsmen for any spare medications and they were not very careful. I understand they will need a thorough clean when we have the rest back to rights. He also thought you would need someone to help since you look dead on your feet, I volunteered." Merlin didn't respond just looked at him steadily but without any real interest. To be interested required energy. Khilgarrah merely sighed and helped him out of his filthy clothing and into the bath, like a child. Out of the bath, something to eat and then into the wide soft bed, better than anything else he had ever slept in. He was out like a blown candle.

He had made to blow the one out on the small table and was preparing to depart back to help once again in the infirmary that Frige appeared. Blowing in like a spring breeze. Giving a loving glance to Merlin asleep in the big bed.

"I knew it would not be long. He can be rather stubborn can he not?

"He is. It will serve him well in all the years to come." The implication of Merlin's immortality, hanging there between them like the elephant in the room.

"As it did you in your long life. Peace Khilgarrah he will do well."

"Does he know then? I saw you at the back of the room, felt the shift in the stream of the future. No time had passed for us but Merlin is more fatigued than he should be for only facing Morgana. You kept him out of time for some reason. I would know what that reason is Frige. Your husband and yourself have been playing us all one against the other and my Dragonlord has borne the brunt of it."

"I know it and we are so sorry for causing him pain, he is our beloved son as much as he is for Balinor and Hunith." Her fingers were brushing through Merlin's now clean hair. Gentling him as he slept.

"He carries a part of us both and we would not wish to see him in agony, but this was necessary. To do this any other way would have resulted in disaster. This would cause the least amount of anguish of all the paths he could have travelled. We had to push Arthur to accept magic, to do otherwise would have steered him to a road of self destruction, Merlin would have had to face being Emrys under the worst possible circumstances and he would never have forgiven himself for a mistake that would not have been his fault.

His friends needed to realise how much they all mean to each other. How much Merlin means to them. They were taking him for granted, and he was letting them. It is not in his nature to push himself forward, but it was damaging him, and at the pace they were going, he would have lost them before he was ready. He cannot survive without their guidance and love for the years he needs to adjust. He needs them, and the land needs him. We had to intervene. The world would have eventually died without his accepting who and what he is fully and without reservations. For his human half to acknowledge everything it means to be a god. For both sides of himself to mesh completely and without flaw will take time, we had to give him that time. It is a hard thing, I think, to know something for your whole life so far and then have it turned on its head.

Without breaking the cycle he was in right now, the events that would unfold would make him retreat so far within himself, we would never have reached him. So many have been waiting for him to come and save them, they have forgotten that he may also be in need of saving. He is so very precious to us. We could not stand by and watch him fall."

It was a steep learning curve for the dragon. To understand that though his Dragonlord was indeed destined to be the most powerful Warlock of all time, and be father to a legend, he was still vulnerable. That he was a child of gods, but so very young and unsure, someone who had been thrust into a world not of their choosing, and now had to find a place in it where they could just be, without recrimination or fear or self doubt.

"This has been a harsh lesson, but he will recover from it, and end stronger than before and happier."

"I take it then that Morgana is dead, since I can no longer sense her malevolence. But what I do not understand, is if Morgana is dead how will that not break the prophecy. Morgana and Mordred are destined to be united as are Aithusa and Morgana. To kill her is to break those unions. The Prophecy should have shattered and yet it has not, I can feel it has not."

"Where did it say that Morgana had to be killed, or that Morgana and the others could only have one type of interaction?" Khilgarrah honestly had never thought of it in those terms. This complex web they had woven had obviously been designed to catch more than one fly it seemed. There was something she was holding back and it appeared she was waiting for him to ask.

"So what did you do with Morgana?"

"Don't tell me your senses have dulled with age to such an extent you cannot feel a new Dragon life within the circle of your powers' perceptions?" Her tinkling laugh rang out in teasing mischief and Khilgarrah sat stunned. A new Dragon forged of Morgana. A way for his race to rise again. For him to have kin other than Aithusa.

"How did you do this? Dragon's cannot be so direct and God's even less so."

"Merlin has recognised himself as Emrys, and I have shown him the heart of Albion." And that to Khilgarrah just said it all.

"Emrys created a Dragon!" The awe built slowly but surely, as the dragon gazed down at the innocent visage of his lord. This was a power he had no hope of understanding, truly, Merlin had now outstripped him spectacularly.

…..


	46. Chapter 45 Traitorous intent

**A/N This is yet another chapter that started as one thing and ended as something totally different. I'm beginning to think my mind is seriously twisted itself to be able to keep up with all the corkscrewing this plot is doing now. I have seriously created a monster as big as Godzilla. **

**Cobalt blue is Merlin's colour, if I owned him I would make sure he wore more of it! But Arthur and the BBC own him so he wears Camelot red, boo hoo. **

…..

Chapter 45 Traitorous intent.

Morning came as it was wont to do, even managing a sunny, though cold start. The inhabitants of the city waking with the smell of smoke in their nostrils and moans of pain on their lips, not relishing the start of the new day. This would be the beginning of the grim task of cataloguing the expense. Tallying the total cost in both lives and livelihoods. And then dealing with the aftermath.

Merlin had woken comfortable and warm and seriously confused in a room totally unfamiliar. Why had he come here last night instead of his own chamber? He had better depart quickly if Arthur weren't to find out and tease him unmercifully for being so all about in the head as to make such a mistake.

He sat up slowly and then noticed his shirt. Not one of his and if he weren't much mistaken was actually one belonging to Arthur. The smells of a perfectly cooked breakfast wafted across from a side table, and the noise of someone clearing their throat round a mouthful of said breakfast, glancing in that direction he noted not only his king but Gwen smiling at him. Too late.

"It could be considered odd and quite frankly creepy to sit there and watch a person sleeping, you know." The smile lit Merlin's face taking the sting from the words.

"I would say the feeling is mutual then since you have also done it enough times. Every time there's a skirmish in the forest I wake up with your ugly mug grinning down at me."

"Well if you didn't keep getting knocked out there would be no need. And that is professional concern from a medical expert not merely a sinister need to sit there whilst I'm vulnerable."

"You think me sitting here eating breakfast waiting for you to stop being lazy and wake up is sinister? What if I'm merely protecting you?"

"What from? Gwen? The rampaging sausages of doom?" Arthur mouthed the last words under his breath unrepentant grin spread wide, mouth opening to tell Merlin he was once again an idiot, when his wife intervened, eagle eye delivering the reprimand to both.

"Boys that is enough. This is becoming childish, Merlin come and have some food, Arthur will never say it, but he was worried about you last night. We both are." Arthur rolled his eyes at his wife's statement as if to disprove it, but Merlin could tell by the expressions flitting behind his features that he had been.

"Yes mother Gwen ! Food sounds wonderful right about now and there is no need to be worried. I was just tired. I don't think I've used so much magic in a single day before." Gwen's eyes narrowed, dangerously devious glint evident.

"All powerful warlock or not, I can still beat you. Call me mother Gwen again and I'll act like it. Don't forget how many weeks I stayed with Hunith. Most of her lovely stories were about you growing up. I now have a few rather unusual tips in how to deal with you!" Arthur laughed aloud the traitor. "Don't think I won't take the same tack with you either. I'm sure magic wielding warlock trumps king in waiting for how hard you were to raise!" That wiped the smiles from both their faces rather abruptly, Gwen never made a threat she wasn't prepared to follow through on. Gwen just chuckled heartily. It was not often she could boast getting the better of both her husband and her friend.

The meal progressed with light hearted banter, and companionship. No-one willing to touch upon the events of the last days. Knowing all too well that it would not be long before it intruded anyway, and trying to gain the last few moments of respite until it did. The release of worries a necessity, for the coming trials would be hard.

Battles were bloody affairs, harsh and demanding. The aftermath less gruesome true, but no less gruelling for all that. Recovering the fallen of both sides, funerals, repairs and dealing with the despair of grieving relatives and friends. Odin, and the prisoners had to be dealt with and they also had a spy to take to trial. Wounded to take care of and the evacuated families to send home. Those now without adequate shelter needing re housing. Merlin felt guilty for it. Frige and Amaethon had done this because of him. He would have spared them all the pain of it if he could.

"How are you Gwen? I never saw you after I checked you over yesterday." His tone soft and full of self recrimination from not being able to save them completely from harm.

"Merlin I'm fine, really. Bruises fade in time and apart from feeling a little stiff and sore I think I got off lightly to what it could have been had you not shown up when you did. Thank you for saving me, for saving us all once again."

"And you? Your arm? It was broken then?" Arthur's arm was now splinted and bound tight, he looked at it a little blankly before shrugging and saying somewhat sheepishly.

"Ah, they still weren't sure. Bette did this so I didn't damage it further between last night and Gaius being able to see me."

"How is Gaius?" The guilt returned tenfold. His adoptive father had been injured yesterday and he had not given him more than a passing thought.

"Alive and kicking. Bit of a nasty headache by all accounts, and not happy that Agnes and her niece decided between them that he needed to stay in bed. Agnes apparently told her helper Elsie in strictest confidence that she had never met a man so hard headed as Gaius, and it was true what they say that physicians make the worst patients. Of course since it was confidential, half the castle now knows." Merlin's laugh, sudden and spontaneous, at the picture Gwen wove of Gaius and the cook squaring off, was a joy to see. Merlin carried far too much guilt and heartache, especially for things he had no control over. He needed to let some of it go. Providing distractions even if only temporary should help him stop thinking too deeply and stave off the wallowing.

…..

Khilgarrah sat back against the sun warmed stone. Basket by his side, watching the smoke from the recently doused fires curl lazily to the sky. Clouds still covered the horizon moving fast creating fantastical shapes he longed to feel brush his wingtips.

He missed flying. Missed it with an ache he thought long since vanquished. He hadn't been grounded for so long since his incarceration and he needed to be back up there. Just when would the god's punishment end? He had asked Frige after she had delivered the startling news of Merlin's magical feats, staying a while and then going back home. She had dodged the question and he now wondered what else there was for him to do. He was stuck in this limbo and though it was not quite as horrid as he first thought, even quite interesting and educational on occasion, he felt trapped. Just as much a prisoner as he was when chained beneath the castle, for all that he could freely walk out of the gates at any moment. He wondered if this was what Merlin felt. The bonds of love and kinship binding him as surely as those links of bespelled metal did all those years earlier.

He had never thought of himself as selfish or lonely before. The ways of Dragons were to fly free, even as youngsters. Only finding company when the calls of mating had filled the skies, or the Dragonlord's had called them down. He had been unusual in that he had sought the company of the lords. But even so he had not seen them for years between visits. Perhaps it was time to change it. There would be only three dragons, and he the eldest. He would have to protect them, raise them, teach them the lessons he had learned from his lord and his time here. They would need to learn respect for these people, just as he had. The bonds between the races could be forged anew if Frige were to be believed. Merlin would be the one to do it, and it would start when he hatched this new little one. He patted the blanket at his side, egg safely hidden beneath, and wondered just when he would get to meet her.

…..

The angry voices of the prisoners mingled with the groans of those who had been injured in yesterday's conflict. Demands of food and water being ignored for the most part by the indifferent looking guards. These people had killed the guard's friends, relatives and destroyed their homes. They were not in a merciful frame of mind.

The young servant girl eyed them with trepidation as she made her way through to the far wall of cells. Stopping before one that held six men one of which she knew very well.

"Uncle Danis?" The man within lay on the straw, hand over his eyes, ignoring his cellmates arguing. At her voice he leapt to his feet, moving swiftly to the bars. "What happened? I just found out you were here."

"Mari, I am glad to see you well. You cannot stay here. You cannot afford to be seen with me."

"Why? Why have they locked you up? Was it the messages? Surely you told them you were not sending them to Morgana? I know you weren't. Iseldir has nothing to do with the witch, and King Arthur's own manservant has been using Magic, surely he would not call you traitor for simply helping the magical community." Mari's eyes were pleading, willing her uncle to deny he had done anything wrong, that he hadn't made her culpable. The man couldn't, head hanging.

"Mari, she had your Aunt and cousins. She would have killed them." Mari was horrified. Backing away in disbelief.

"No. No you did not make me do this. How could you? I thought you were helping us! I thought we were bringing peace!"

"Mari please! Don't do anything rash, stay safe, and when this is over find your aunt, please Mari…Mari!" She had backed into the wall, hand to her mouth, the enormity of what her uncle had done, had pulled her into, was staggering. She whirled and ran, knowing there was only one course she could take, she had all unknowing been part of the destruction wreaked on the city and she could not bear it.

…..

The knock came just as the last of the food had been consumed. Merlin still in the sleep shirt and trousers loaned him by the king. They had expected guards or knights with reports. What they got was Lynette leading a terrified young woman through the door.

She was mousey. No other word seemed to fit. The hair escaping her faded blue headscarf was light blond/ brown and wispy, light brown eyes shot with grey, small and delicate looking and extremely frightened. Lynette curtseyed.

"I'm sorry My lady, sire. Mari here came looking for you in your chambers, she said it was important. She's one of the volunteer healers." Instantly alert Arthur wondered who they had just lost if it was important enough to root him out here.

"Thank you Lynette. I'll speak to her. You may go." Lynette curtseyed again and left closing the door softly behind her. "What is it?" Though his tone was gentle, trying to still her nerves it was having no effect. She looked if anything worse, wringing her hands and shifting from foot to foot.

"Please, Sire. My uncle. He's in the dungeon. He…he…" Clearly this was not what they had first thought. Puzzled as to the reason Merlin got up and drew her protesting to the table and the chair he had just vacated. She couldn't seem to look at them, Merlin especially. "Please, I didn't know what he was doing. If I had I would never…" They were having trouble making out the words her voice so low, and thready.

Merlin knelt by her chair. Taking her hands whilst the royals looked on. "Mari?" She nodded. "Mari look at me." Her head pulled up slightly. "What is it? Please. You have come here for a reason you believe important. Please tell me." Shaking, she gathered her courage and pulled up the left sleeve of her dress. There just above the elbow was the triskellion tattooed upon her arm. "You are a druid?" another nod. "What are you doing in Camelot?"

"Iseldir sent us. My uncle and me. We were here to keep an eye open, he said Emrys was here and might need us. He knew Morgana was gathering an army but we didn't know when she planned to strike. He wanted to help. We were to send messages of anything unusual happening and he would come. He would ask Emrys if he needed them. They took your pledge to heart sire." At Arthur's confused look she clarified. "The one you made to the spirit at the shrine. Emrys told him, he said, and he wanted to make sure you knew they would stand with you." Merlin had closed his eyes.

"He never got any messages did he, because we kept it secret? Oh well you can let Iseldir know all is well."

"But that's just it, we did send a message."

"But Iseldir never contacted us!"

"My uncle betrayed you, sire and I helped. I didn't know. I thought he was with us. I thought I was helping, when all along I…I…I caused those deaths!" Merlin had his arm around her, cradling her whilst she wept against his shoulder, this was so clearly not her fault, but it complicated things.

"The man Gwaine brought in before the battle? The leatherworker is your uncle?"

"Yes sire."

"Why would he do this? Why betray us, I had already declared that they would be treated with respect."

"I went to see him. I couldn't believe he had been arrested for sending messages to your ally, when Merlin was found to have magic and you had let him use it in the battle. I thought it was just a mistake. He confirmed it, told me Morgana had my aunt and my two cousins, that they would be killed if he didn't keep her informed. I don't know if it's true or how Morgana would have been able to take them. They were at our camp." Merlin, Gwen and Arthur exchanged looks. They left Gwen with the young woman, trying to comfort her as much as possible.

"You believe her?" Arthur was never one to beat around the bush.

"I do. I sense no deception in her, and I know Iseldir. This is something he might do. He has helped me in the past. He would never do so without permission but he has always kept his eye out for trouble for me and advised me when he could. He would be a good ally if you wish it. Very influential within the clans."

"If the man's wife and children were held to ransom it may mitigate the sentence somewhat, especially since nothing terrible came of it. Would he be able to tell us the truth of what happened? Do you think he would come if we asked him to?"

"He might, especially if I do it. Why what are you thinking?"

"Kill two birds with one stone, find out the truth and draw up a treaty between the peoples. It would go some way towards our goal of lifting the ban." The pride fairly burst from the warlock. Maybe Arthur had no idea how much a treaty between the druids and Camelot would help, that so many people turned to them for their medical knowledge, but he did it anyway knowing it was the right thing. The smile was wide as he turned back to the unfortunate niece of the traitor.

"I need to contact Iseldir, find out if they are alright. Do you know where they are? Would you go and take a message to him?" Mari's eyes widened, looking confusedly between Arthur and Merlin.

"You would Trust me? After what I did?" It was Arthur who answered.

"From what you have told me it was not your fault. You never intended to betray anyone. We need to let them know what has occurred as much as finding out if they are well."

"I will take it. What do you need me to say?"

"Tell him that 'The once and future king and Emrys greet him, and we wish to form an alliance and treaty, for the mutual benefit of Albion!'" Mari's eyes were wide and still full of tears.

"You are Emrys?" Merlin's smile was rueful as the young woman bowed. Arthur rolled his eyes that anyone would want to bow to Merlin of all people.

"I am." The quiet confidence of Merlin's answer though shook him slightly, that particular tone had been absent a few days ago when he had called Merlin Emrys. Merlin asking him not to call him that name. That he was uncomfortable with it. Arthur wondered what had happened in the mean time to change that view.


	47. Chapter 46 Hope of life!

**A/N To guest Kala and Meri ley, thankyou for your lovely reviews I hope this meets with your approval also.**

**To my dear sister faith who happens to be reviewing as a guest, no peeking and no spoilers! The plot on my computer will bear no real resemblance to what I put in here. You will just have to wait like everyone else! No special dispensation just because your family! Although I may waver slightly if you decide to bake a cake!**

...

Chapter 46 Hope of life

Mari had been given a horse. A very placid, easygoing, chestnut mare, older, sturdy, and small and yet still Mari was nervous. Druids did not ride as a rule so her experience was somewhat limited to those brief trips which she took out of the city with her uncle gathering materials and supplies. Sir Bedivere was a much more patient and accomplished horseman and had agreed to help her as much as he was able. Helping her mount, calming her nerves and talking her through every little detail.

He was one of two Camelot knights going along to guard her from the dangers the forest represented, bandits and bands of Odin's escaping men being prevalent. Sir Caradoc was a grizzled old veteran of a knight, but had volunteered when all those knights left uninjured in the battle had been approached with a mission involving magic, saying he remembered his great aunt having magic and producing coloured light balls to entertain them when he was a young child before the purge.

It seemed that nearly everyone Arthur talked to had had experiences of magic to draw on either good or bad, and since Merlin had come out of hiding they were talking about it more freely, (though that was not necessarily a good thing, since they had needed to intervene in several disputes on the subject). Arthur had been all for sending Merlin with them too but as Merlin had pointed out he was needed here to deal with the fallout from these events. Mari was known to them and could give an accurate description of the most pertinent points. The knights were sympathetic to magic users, and since there were only three of them, they would present a non-threatening front as they delivered the messages. Arthur having decided to send a formally worded official missive drawn up very hastily by the court archivist and sealed with the Pendragon crest. In all it was the best they could do on short notice and with all the other duties still needing to be performed.

Arthur, Gwen and Merlin waved them off on their little diplomatic mission, taking note as they did so that the fires seemed to be under control once more and that there were streams of men and women weaving through the streets of the upper and lower towns moving with great purpose. The work on rebuilding the city had already begun and they now needed to work on rebuilding trust.

And though he was extremely reluctant about it, Merlin had a certain matter to discuss with his friends.

…..

How do you go about telling someone their traitorous sister has been turned into a Dragon who would no longer remember her old life, and was now to become the saviour of a race of creatures, that were supposed to be dying out?

Merlin was rather stumped as to how to begin. To blurt it out and hope for the best, may have been something he might have tried to do as a fresh faced teenager straight out of Ealdor, and still trying to find a foothold in the court of Camelot's prince. Now however as an older, wiser, hopefully more mature friend to the king he knew it just wouldn't go over well to suddenly turn to him in a casual conversational tone and say, _"Oh by the way Arthur, when I killed Morgana the other night, I happened to trap her spirit in that egg over there, as a new Dragon of Albion and I've already got an arranged marriage in place for her, so she can repopulate."_ He somehow thought that might be the deciding factor into whether Arthur **should** kill him for his insanity or not.

Life was turning out to be no more of a picnic than it had been before his magic had been found out. At least then he knew who his enemies had been and could take steps against them.

Now Merlin merely sat thinking hard, waiting for the rest of the round table and Khilgarrah, whom he now knew had taken charge of the egg after his less than dignified exit from the infirmary. His mind whirling dizzily, trying to figure out a way to tell them without spilling everything or sounding completely mad.

He had very briefly wondered if it would not be better to leave the whole issue of Morgana out of the equation altogether. However they would all want to know how he had so suddenly acquired a Dragon egg, and he had no clue how to explain. So he sat silent, deep in thought, tracing patterns with his fingertips on the round table in front, completely oblivious to Gwen's intently anxious glances at his brooding form.

"Merlin?"

"Mmm."

"Merlin? Are you alright? Merlin?" The warlock looked up to find the whole privy council of the round table assembled, waiting and looking on in ill concealed worry.

"We've been sitting here for ten minutes, calling your name. Are you alright?" A deep breath to dispel the cobwebs and he was. Or at least better. He glanced to his right and noticed Khilgarrah's hand straying down to the basket. He had brought it then, that was good at least they would believe him a little easier with physical evidence there to back him up. He rather thought the tale about to be told would be a bit hard to swallow without it. He rubbed a weary hand through his hair once and then dropped it to his lap and sent them a watery smile.

"Sorry I'm fine I was just trying to figure something out. The reason I asked for you to be here is so I can let you know what happened in the infirmary." They all nodded, looking ready to hear the details, needing to know the exact circumstances. Though some like Arthur were not as eager to find out the fate of Morgana. Traitor that she had been she was still family, this would be hard for him to hear. "Just know that this will sound slightly preposterous but it is ultimately true."

"I think were becoming all too used to preposterous where you're concerned my friend."

"Thank you Gwaine." Merlin rolled his eyes. "I take it Arthur let you know how we knew Morgana was in the infirmary?" At the nods and murmurs of confirmation he continued. "When I confronted Morgana, after she threw everyone back, we fought and with the last of my reserves I killed her." Arthur closed his eyes, the pain evident, obviously remembering the girl she had been. "However we…ah…happened to have a slight amount of divine intervention." Deep confusion reigned, around the table. The only other person not surprised being Khilgarrah, obviously Frige had explained just as she said she would. "This whole charade, the curse, the battle, it was all a set up by the gods to defy a prophecy written centuries ago and bring a supposedly better future, than the one set down."

"This was supposed to be **better**?!" Merlin winced at the irate king's near screech.

"Not **this** per se, but the future that would come from it, yes. Frige apologised for causing such pain to everyone. If it helps, the future they wanted to prevent was worse, but we have apparently been turned from that other path."

"What on earth could be worse than the suffering of a kingdom and the near loss of you?"

"Your death at the hands of Morgana!" Merlin's near shout shut Arthur up completely, Gwen's squeak of distress sounding louder now in the silent room. "You are more important than you realise Arthur, and apparently so am I." His hand in his hair again he shouldn't have said the last comment, soft though it had been. His friends had proved they were more observant than he had previously thought in the last days. They would ask, they wouldn't rest till they had pulled an explanation from him. It would have to be a modified one, he was not telling them he was a demi-god, it was too much to think of himself, let alone what it would make his friends think.

He would have to head them off, give them just enough to appease them. He hated to hide things again, but to protect himself, for now he must. Head hung, arms stretched in front of him and hands clasped, he carried on in a voice full of awe and perhaps even fear. For what the future could have been and also for what it would be.

"Frige came to me, showed me something after the battle. She froze time to do it, that's why I was so tired, you all stayed in place but I was awake for hours more. There is more to our destiny…my destiny, than I was led to believe. It was a lot to take in to be honest and I'm not sure even now that I can do everything they think I can." Khilgarrah at his side gave his arm an encouraging squeeze. He was the only one who would probably ever know the full extent of it. "I think they did all this so I could fulfil the prophecy of Emrys being Morgana's destiny and doom in a way **they** wanted rather than the one the triple goddess had shown the druid seers. I was apparently always destined to kill Morgana, but this way she could be given a second chance."  
"How? If Morgana is dead how could she be given another chance?" Merlin didn't speak just reached down into the basket at his side and retrieved the egg, placing it ever so gently upon the surface. More than one jaw dropped as they sat contemplating the enormity of the object's implications.

"Morgana has become a **dragon**?!" Gaius's eyebrows had risen considerably, then abruptly lowered into the deepest of frowns thinking. "Merlin did Frige create the dragon?" He was no fool, a very learned man and to admit that actually Merlin had pulled on a power he didn't know he had access to would probably give away too much information to his mentor, but he couldn't lie, not outright, not to his father in all but blood. "No. According to Frige, I did it." He stroked the surface of the egg gently, lovingly. "I have no idea how." That wasn't a precise lie. He knew he had pulled on Albion's life force, but he didn't know what he had done with it, the instinct obviously so ingrained he didn't need to know. "My Dragonlord abilities supposedly guided me."

Gaius could tell this was not the whole, but he could only tell because he had lived with the man for the last seven years. Merlin had never kept something so large from him before not when it came to his magic. He would be having words with his ward later, there was more to this tale than met the eye and Merlin should not have to bear it alone, he had too much of that already.

"So? What? We have Morgana on our hands as a dragon now instead of a high priestess? How is that any better?"

"Elyan, Merlin is a Dragonlord, he can control her."

"Still don't fancy having her running around Camelot as a fire-breathing lizard."

"We are not **lizard's** if you please young knight!" Khilgarrah's back was certainly up at that comment.

"Sorry I keep forgetting you're not technically human." Elyan's contrition hung in the air, the knight embarrassed at making such a mistake.

"It's not really Morgana anyway. It's her soul but the dragon within is a whole new life. She will not remember anything of who she was before. It truly is a second chance. A wiped clean slate. Her destructive life as Morgana Pendragon is over. Now she will be the saviour of a race."

Arthur had kept very quiet throughout his shock at the revelation holding a glint, the merest glimmer of sadness that his sister as he had known her was now gone, but also a slight hint of happiness that her spirit would live on, and for a very long time if he knew anything of Dragon lifestyles. Perhaps her fierce compassionate nature before it all went wrong would re-emerge in this new life. He rather thought such characteristics would suit a young dragon.

"When will the egg hatch?" His eager tone and the reverent fingers trailing down the egg's surface, cut through the quiet argument brewing amongst the knights surprising them with his excitement. He was the last they would have thought happy to embrace a new dragon.

"The Dragonlords must call new dragons from their eggs by giving them a name. Merlin has already performed his solemn duty in this for Aithusa, now he must do so again." Arthur looked impressed now as if this were a skill he would have appreciated having. He made a motion to go ahead with his hand and Merlin gaped, he was not the only one.

"Here? Now? Wouldn't it be better outside? Plus Khilgarrah is in no fit state to look after a hatchling whilst in human form." Khilgarrah bristled briefly before his features softened and he laughed a little as he shook his head.

"Merlin. Hatchlings look after themselves, they are born with the knowledge, and if you called Aithusa, he may very well answer you this time if he senses a dragon hatching. He will take her. From what Frige told me they will know instinctively they are meant to be together."

"Wait Morgana's going to have Dragon babies?" Gwaine's roguish glint was back full force and Merlin groaned.

"Gwaine! Keep your mind out of the gutter for once. She won't **be** Morgana!"

"I think for once we may dispense with the formalities and just do, Merlin. Perceval open the window, Merlin call her forth and then try and get Aithsa…"

"Aithusa, Arthur it means light of the sun."

"That! Try and get him here." Merlin had never seen Arthur look so excited. He was like a child with a long awaited treat, almost jumping up and down in his enthusiasm. Khilgarrah wasn't far behind and the rest of the round table, were clearing space as if the dragonet would be huge when hatched. It seemed he was to be given no choice in the matter.

Merlin stood and moved his chair back leaving the egg stood upon the table. It seemed fitting somehow that Morgana's second birthplace would be at the heart of Arthur's new way of ruling.

Looking round at the eager and not so eager but still awed faces of these people he realised he had never been happier than these last days. And however long he would be able to spend with them would be worth it. He would make sure of that.

Just as before at Aithusa's birth he closed his eyes, reaching deep within his soul to the bond he shared with both other dragons, spreading his senses out toward the new life within the thick shell and asked it for a description of itself. What came back was a name pure and completely right.

"_**Zoelphis!**_" Deep and resonating his voice carried into every corner of the room thrumming with the power of a Dragonlord and summoning the named one from its home. She came. Chipping away from the inside ready and willing to greet the world.

Deepest crimson with a cream underbelly and shimmering scales that flashed gold when caught in the sun iridescent and extremely beautiful. Looking around her with great curiosity.

Khilgarrah seemed transfixed not looking away from the chirping creature for a second.

"What does the name mean? It's very pretty, just as she is." Gwen was all smiles.

"Life's hope. And just as with Aithusa's hatching no dragon birth is without meaning, I believe her name is self explanatory, as far as her colouring goes, Aithusa as a white Dragon was rare. Zoelphis's is even rarer there has never been such before. I can already sense she will be a great foreteller, as she was in her old life."

…..


	48. Chapter 47 One step closer

**A/N I am most humbly sorry for taking a week to post this. You must all be fed up with me and I don't blame you. I have had no internet access for a few days and writers block for a few more. I wanted to incorporate some elements of season fives another's sorrow in here but had a hard time doing it successfully till I reworked it. Ah well it is here now and hopefully the next chapter will be sooner.**

…..

Chapter 47 One step closer.

"I think it best if you call Aithusa now Merlin." Khilgarrah's voice cut through the awe everyone still felt at being witness to the act of a dragon hatching.

"Alright but um…you might want to cover your ears? I can be a little…loud." Merlin's sheepish look was directed at the table. Slight grin denoting the fact he didn't think anyone would take him seriously, and rather relishing the chance to prove himself right once again.

As predicted no-ones hands so much as twitched in the direction of their ears, ah well he had warned them. Reaching down into that part of his magic that held the sleeping dragon within he threw back his head and roared.

"_**O̱ drákon sas kaló̱ mikró fos tou Aithusa gia na deíte to néo fílo sas voi̱thí̱sei na párete ti̱n ptí̱si̱"**_

"I must say Merlin, it would perhaps be better if I were not sat beside you next time you do that! The compulsion went right through me even though it was not directed towards myself. I had wondered if it would work, with my form being so very different, however I believe that question has now been answered. It seems though my outward appearance is yet human my essentially spiritual self is still very much a dragon." Khilgarrah had his hands to his ears. Pain prevalent and Merlin gave him a hasty but slight look of apology. Khilgarrah of all people should have realised exactly what the call would entail. Though to be fair he was usually further away when the words went out. Every one of his friends looked a little stunned. Merlin shrugged.

"Told you it was a little loud."

"Mate **that** was rather spectacular. How in the hell did you ever manage to keep all this from us?" Perceval as usual didn't need to say much to get his point across.

"Since it was a matter of life or death to reveal himself I believe necessity played a rather large part of it Gwaine. I would imagine he was rather more, sneaky than we ever gave him credit for." Arthur took that with a slightly different meaning, eye's lighting mischievously.

"So I take it next time we are on a hunt the game will be a little more readily available. Since we now know how stealthy you can be."

"Arthur, stealthy and sneaky are two totally different things. As you well know and my tripping over my own feet is not an act. I've had problems with my feet **and** inanimate objects fighting me since birth." He gave a short laugh. "At one point I believed I'd been given my magic as compensation for my lack of grace." Elyan outright guffawed at this. Everyone else following suit once his meaning became clear.

"And it seems the amount of magic is in direct proportion to the grace, or lack thereof." Merlin's cheeks heated, the blush reaching all the way down his neck.

"I think we had best look out for Aithusa. He didn't stray much from Morgana's side from what I could tell. Frige had encouraged him to bond with Morgana, I now understand why."

Everyone else, barring Gwen, looked toward the window trying to catch a glimpse of anything white heading their way. Zoelphis had been curiously chirping away at Gwen who was trying to coax her closer to stroke her head, and Khilgarrah. She was sensing his innate nature but confused because he did not look like the dragon he was. She had been contentedly sat regarding both queen and Dragon/ man right up until Merlin's roar split the air and then she ducked and tried to hide, sensing the power his voice held over her even now whilst the compulsion of the bond hadn't had time to develop fully. When they had become distracted again with teasing Merlin her head had re-emerged and Gwen had succeeded in her task of caressing the tiny creature. Scratching gently under her chin Zoelphis's jade green eyes closed in near bliss, a similar expression firmly fixed on the face of the queen.

Aithusa arrived not long after and the littlest dragon began a low rumbling hum, almost a purr at the sight of him.

White scales gleaming he came flying in the window landing directly on the table and went straight over to Zoelphis, rubbing his face against her. At almost 11 months old he was much larger than her but still you could tell he was merely a youngster. It was clear they were very affectionate with each other and would have no problems bonding. It was not long before Zoelphis was being guided by Khilgarrah and Aithusa to take small flights around the room and then to the great delight of everyone took a leap out the window.

They flew in lazy circles for a few moments, Aithusa showing off to the older dragon and his new young friend Then took a position by her side and flew off toward the distant mountain peaks, barely visible across the horizon. They turned away from the window with audible sighs.

The excitement finally over, The privy council broke up. All going to their appointed tasks in reclaiming the city from the chaos the fighting left it in. Merlin as the only servant present and not wanting to leave evidence of such magical goings on in the room began cleaning as everyone else filed out, until only he and Arthur remained.

Arthur just looked at Merlin for some time in silence. The peace of the room seeping through and creating a contrast to the noise and bustle of earlier. When the enquiry came it was quiet but full of determination and care for his friend. Something Merlin had said earlier had peaked his interest, and had so clearly upset his friend. He needed to know what.

"So tell me about this great destiny then?" Merlin paused in the act of cleaning up the egg shards and looked enquiringly at his king. "Don't think I didn't notice how you glossed over the details and distracted us all from the talk of your greater role in all this. I can see it has…disturbed you in some way. I can honestly say, I'm not altogether ecstatic about some of this myself. Let me help. You have carried this alone for so long I believe you have forgotten we are here." The casual stance, hip resting on the edge of the round table and slightly lopsided smile were belied by the thoughtful glint in his eyes.

"Arthur, everyone else knew more about our destiny than I did, best off asking anyone other than me about that." The teasing note was his way of trying to make this more bearable

"You never looked these prophecies up then?"

"When would I have had the chance?" He was trying and failing miserably to be flippant. "Honestly though, I've never thought it to be a good idea for me to see exactly what was written about us. I always thought I'd either get too complacent or freak out at the idea of what I'm supposed to do. It's not pleasant to know the future, trust me I've seen it twice and it's not an experience I ever want to repeat. Plus everything has changed now. I'm not entirely sure what is written is so valid anymore."

"So what can you tell me?" Merlin regarded him steadily working out how much to reveal, his brain working at lightning speed, so it was barely a moment before he answered in all seriousness.

"Only that we are supposed to bring about a time of unrivalled peace and prosperity, in a united Albion, where magic is once again free."

"Only….a united Albion?"

"You are destined to be the greatest ruler the world has ever seen!"

"It can't be done Merlin. Albion hasn't been united since Bruta's day and he had the might of the Roman empire behind him." All amusement and teasing seemed to have completely fled the room and Merlin's voice deepened into what the king secretly thought of as his 'Wise Warlock' voice, all dark and velvety and mysterious, dripping with the wisdom of ages.

"It **can** be done. By you Arthur! The Once and Future King. Those kinds of titles aren't just given out on a whim. I have seen it. You are already doing it. Not with brute strength like your however many greats grandfather did but with treaties and trade and peace. You have courage Arthur, and the greatest strength of will I have ever seen. You command the love and loyalty of everyone you meet, not by might of arms but the force of your personality. The people adore you because you stand for what is right and good in this world even if the way seems impossible. You treat everyone with respect, and listen to the opinions of others, even if you do then revert to a dollophead and do exactly the opposite." He smirked at this, head to one side, teasing unmercifully. "You look like a fish like that by the way!" Merlin turned back to his abandoned eggshell collecting with a small huff at this last bizarre statement, but it was true. Arthur's jaw had dropped open with his speech and he looked like he was trying to talk, his mouth slowly opening and closing but no words making it passed his rather shocked lips.

It was only later as Arthur was once again ensconced in the room with the reporting knights that Arthur realised that damned slippery warlock had once again deflected the king's enquiry as to his health and well being back towards him without once answering his real question.

…..

Odin had been awake for merely a couple of hours by the time Arthur made his way down to see him.

One of the castle healers had been by and seen to the injuries of his knights and the mercenaries of his army. His own head had been pounding and his foot a dull throbbing mass, but he made her look after his men first.

His broken ankle and battered cranium were not life threatening merely very painful. Every pulse of agony reminding him that he had failed in his endeavour. Never mind that the witch had promised him something and never delivered, it was his fault for believing her capable of doing it. If he ever got out of here he would be most wary of whom he allied himself with in future and that **woman** had best make herself scarce if she were still alive.

Finally the young lady seeing to their hurts gave him a vial of foul tasting remedy for the pain, reset his ankle with two of his men holding him still, splinted, bandaged and then left all with a look of severe disapproval and no words spoken except out of necessity. Had he really expected anything else? He had after all invaded their city and caused a lot of destruction, before being taken down by a bloody hole for goodness sake. He just hoped that he could keep quiet about the ignominy of his defeat.

He did wonder what Arthur had in store for him. He held no notions of his being patted on the head, told never to do it again and sent on his way with nothing but a reprimand. If the roles had been reversed he would have provided no mercies, and if his men were no longer a factor he would have no compunctions about slipping a knife or even a sharpened sliver of wood between the man's ribs. However, his men were here, reliant on the decisions made between the monarchs, and Odin would not sacrifice them all for his revenge, he would promise whatever it took to get them free so they could live to fight another day.

Perhaps it was these thoughts that somehow summoned the King, for there he was descending the last stairs calmly and with purpose, pet sorcerer trailing obediently like a trained hound shabby clothes askew yet again. The Man dressed like a lowly peasant for goodness sake. Odin didn't bother to rise. He was a king, and though he would make concessions to keep his men safe he would be sure to let them know he was not happy about it.

"Come to finish me Arthur Pendragon?" Arthur shook his head motioning for the guards to open the cell.

"What would that serve, save to keep this war going?

"You started this war when you killed my son!"

"Your son challenged me in a fight to the death for no reason other than to try and prove his prowess in combat. I asked him to withdraw, gave him several opportunities during the fight but he would not. Your son knew what he was doing and accepted the consequences, you are keeping this going out of a false sense that I have wronged you. I regret not being able to talk him out of it but he made his choice as a warrior."

"That means nothing!"

"Is this what you want? To keep sending people to their deaths? We have both lost much at the others hand, why do our people have to be the ones to suffer? I offer you a chance to end this, if we make a binding treaty for peace."

"Why would you do this?"

"There has been too much killing, too many innocent lives lost to mistaken beliefs and thoughts of revenge or glory. My father's mistakes, Morgana's, Mine! We cannot bring them back but we can try to prevent it happening in the future. I have come to realise over the last two weeks that things are not always as they appear and to find the truth requires us to look so much deeper than perhaps we want to." He had looked to his side as he said this, to the sorcerer. Just a brief glance but enough to intrigue Odin. "It is painful when that truth finally comes to light, but when it does we need to embrace it, because it can be the knowledge we need not only to survive but to thrive. I would see our kingdoms thrive Odin, I wonder if you would do the same?" The pet sorcerer had been trying in vain to keep a clear, blank visage. But the pride shone through regardless. For someone who had not spoken more than a few words in his presence it was very obvious how much this sorcerer's opinion meant to the king. Just who was this man? A magic user standing with pride at the side of a king who would have seen his kind dead and doing so with approval.

The three sorcerers sharing the cell to his left had raised their heads at the exchange, as had his knights at his back. Looking on with avid interest. His answer now would be the deciding factor in whether they went home or perhaps swung at the end of a noose. He knew which choice he had to make but he was still perplexed as to why he would let them go.

"My men? You would see us **all** leave?" Arthur understood the emphasis. He was asking if the sorcerer's would be accompanying them back. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration though he did realise it would be hard for people to adjust to his new way of thinking.

"They were under your orders correct?" Odin gave a nod.

"Then they are subject to the terms of surrender, and once the treaty is signed will be able to leave with you. I trust you will keep them in line as per our stipulations." Odin kept looking at him for long minutes, studying him and Arthur thought for a moment he would still prove recalcitrant. But he didn't, he eventually stuck his hand through the bars.

"Peace it is!"

…..

**Spell/ Dragonlord translations**

**O̱ drákon sas kaló̱ mikró fos tou Aithusa gia na deíte to néo fílo sas voi̱thí̱sei na párete ti̱n**

**ptí̱si̱ - oh dragon I call you little one of the sun's light to see your new friend, help her take flight.**


	49. Chapter 48 Alliances

**A/N once again I am late. My sister always said if it were not for the last minute nothing would ever get done. She also said that I never finished anything I started. Well I am determined to finish this. There are not many more chapters to go and though they are proving difficult I will post them as soon as they are done. **

**I still do not own Merlin, or Arthur, or Gwen, or Gaius, or Gwaine, or even Morgana. I only own the gods!**

**...**.

Chapter 48 Alliances

"You will let the sorcerer's go? Why?"

Merlin's question held no accusation, just curiosity as they made their way back up from the dungeons. Servants had been dispatched to make quarters ready to receive the new guests. Odin and his high ranking knights would be kept together under house arrest, and relative comfort, until the signing and then they would leave.

"You believe I should have killed them?"

"No I only wondered. They were part of the invading army and magic is still technically outlawed."

"It is only still outlawed because as you pointed out we could not lift the ban during this conflict. That does not mean I cannot show mercy. They were under orders and surrendered. Honour dictates they be treated as any enemy soldier captured under a white flag. I am starting as I mean to go on. I thought you would be pleased?"

"Oh I am, trust me. I'm not sure if you saw their faces when we were leaving but they looked so relieved. I don't think you will have any more trouble with them but just in case I've put a temporary block on their magic until they leave. Once out of sight of Camelot the block will fade." Arthur gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"I didn't hear you say any spells."

"I…ah…don't need the spells any longer for things I already know. New ones I've never tried or ones that are delicate I use the spells to give me extra focus. But my magic is instinctive. Gaius says he's never seen a magic user like me. I think it's because of how I was born. The only ones I have any real trouble with are healing spells, and that is more because I can't seem to get the intent right. Gaius believes I just need a better grasp of anatomy and the details of what the spell is to achieve just as any physician would with medicines. Just Time and practice." He gave a shrug. That was true but an understatement none the less. The fact the god of magic was a spiritual parent meant that the knowledge was intrinsic. He didn't need to really learn magic, he already had that knowledge buried deep, it was more a case of remembering it.

Arthur gave him a long look, studying him for a good few minutes until apparently satisfied he turned away and carried on down the hall.

"Are you with Gaius this afternoon? I understand his jailors let him out for the meeting just now but were adamant he get back to bed. Knowing him as I do I don't think he will follow those orders from the cooks niece."

"No. If there are wounded to see to Gaius will always put them first. And he has a go at me for being stubborn when it comes to my health."

"You Merlin are not merely stubborn, you are completely unreasonable." It was said with a smile but they both could acknowledge the truth of the statement.

"I'll keep an eye on him. There were too many volunteer healers that were also injured when Morgana invaded the infirmary. They need every skilled person they can get. I'll make sure Gaius has more of a supervisory role than anything else, but you know him."

"Make sure you look after yourself too. No more collapsing in corridors!" With that Arthur made his way down an intersecting hall to the knight's quarters leaving Merlin to carry on towards the wounded, shaking his head all the while.

…..

The druid camp was peacefully going about its daily business, cooking fires with pots of stew bubbling away, children laughing, chasing each other or balls of stuffed rags. Small groups of older teenagers taking lessons with revered elders, Men stacking wood or working with their hands. Women gossiping, baskets of laundry balanced on hips as they made their way to the river. Mothers watching the children or stirring soup.

The whole scene was one of domestication and quiet industry. A whole community tucked discretely between the trees and looking for all the world like any one of a dozen other villages dotted around Camelot's countryside, save the open uses of magic for mundane chores and the shelters made of fabric rather than wattle and daub.

The three riders had been causing a stir in the outer ranks of tents. Mari was known to them. A favoured daughter entrusted with a delicate task, now returning to the bosom of her family. With two men, who even without their distinctive cloaks and chainmail, were obviously knights. Mari had convinced them to remove those just before they entered the warded areas round the settlement, to make their intentions of goodwill more prominent. Both had seen the wisdom of such a move though Caradoc had grumbled slightly at the loss of the layers keeping him warm in the rain cooled air.

Bedivere had been gazing around with wonder, especially at the small displays of magic. He stared wide eyed at a middle aged man hauling two buckets presumably containing water and being followed by a third without anyone holding its handle. The man's eyes glimmering gold.

An elderly woman sat on a stool in front of a soil filled tub, towards the middle of the camp, surrounded by cross-legged teenagers and obviously giving some kind of lesson. She spoke at length and then gestured over the tub, hand hovering as her eyes flashed and green shoots slowly grew, unfurling in the light of the sun's warmth.

As the trees became denser the further in they travelled, they had to dismount and leave their horses tied to a sturdy branch. The gaps between trees and tents were becoming too small for their mounts to pass without causing untold damage.

The whispers had started the moment they crossed the invisible line marking the outskirts of this camp so that when they finally did reach the largest cluster of tents and campfires in the centre, there was a small delegation waiting for them. The stoic blank masks of distrustful diplomats firmly fixed, but yet interspersed with wary curiosity.

"Mari welcome home, and to you gentlemen we bid you welcome also. You bring news?" A sandy haired man of somewhat middle years had stepped forward to intercept.

"Iseldir sir we do indeed. Though it is not an easy thing to say. Perhaps we could speak somewhere more private?" Mari's earnest and somewhat grim tone had alerted the man and his eyes widened slightly. Hesitating a second too long before answering with a gesture towards the large faded red tent to his right.

…..

The small hall and the rooms either side were still packed. Every spare mattress taking up floor space in between the tables and benches. All the walking wounded had at last been treated and either gone home to their families or been given a bed somewhere in the citadel to recover. Those now left in these sets of rooms were those requiring the most care. Those with injuries too severe to move them were on the tables in the small hall and those slightly less serious in the outer chambers.

Gaius was as anticipated, in the centre of it. Admittedly he was sat stirring some kind of salve in a large pot with a small rod of willow rather than walking between the beds but he was still here rather than back in their shared quarters. Merlin smiled to himself as he walked in. When it came to treating the sick or wounded, Gaius was entirely predictable.

"Gaius? Where do you want me? I'm all yours for the rest of the day."

"Merlin!" Gaius's face lit up as if the man hadn't just seen him earlier this morning. He took a long look at his ward much like Arthur had done earlier. Noting the strain he had been attempting to keep hidden. "How are you my boy?" Merlin could tell by the tone of his voice that his observations of before had not been forgotten and unlike Arthur he was not so easily distracted, was in fact rather tenacious when it came to rooting out the half truths Merlin used when pretending he was fine. He could not keep this from him. He was the one man who had known everything from the start and loved him all the same. Who had taught him how to be the kind of man he was now. Who had shared in all his mistakes and triumphs. Commiserated when called for and the only one to have consistently thanked him throughout those long years of service. If anyone were to understand the revelations of his heritage it would be Gaius. But not now, now was a time to help and to heal. Explanations could come later.

"I'm alright. We can catch up later, yes? Now where am I needed?" One last searching look from his mentor where he caught the meaning behind the words and it was back to business, setting Merlin the task of changing the dressings and checking for infection.

…..

The tent was tall though they still had to stoop, and wide enough that when they passed through and discovered the stools there was room enough for all to sit in relative comfort.

"This tent is warded so sound will not pass these walls. I have sent for refreshments, please sit." Only Iseldir and one other had accompanied their guests to the tent, he gestured to the man as they each took a rough hewn stool. "Mari you remember my son, Cene? Would you introduce us to your companions?"

"Of course I remember. You used to get the apples from the tallest branches for us. You climbed like a squirrel." The young man laughed and strode forward to greet her taking her hands and kissing her cheek.

"It is good to see you too, little nut." Mari blushed beet red at the nickname.

"I'm not as hard-headed as I used to be." Cene just laughed. "Cene, Iseldir, This is Sir Caradoc and Sir Bedivere. They are knights of Camelot and we are on a mission from King Arthur, and Emrys." Her suddenly serious demeanour and use of Emry's name in the presence of knights, who even now showed no surprise was unnerving. Iseldir closed his eyes, his words tumbling out on a breath, "He has revealed himself? Why now? The path has deviated, we were all worried. You must tell us everything."

"King Arthur has explained as much as he was able to about the situation and I have been instructed to tell you if you wish it, but they do not know all and would be grateful for you to come and discuss it in person." Mari fished inside her cloak for the parchment tied round her neck on a loose string, handing it to the chief. "King Arthur sent this missive. It invites you to draw up a treaty between our peoples. It is an expansion on the promises he made at the shrine."

Mari broke off as the flap on the tent lifted and a teenage girl brought a loaded tray through. The herbal teas, bowls of thick brown broth and rolls of rough bread were welcome after their ride, short though it had been. "Thank you Ellen." The teen gave a smile and exited the tent, leaving them to break their fast and Iseldir to read the Letter sent by Camelot's king.

…..

Perhaps it had been naïve of him to think his acts of magic in defence of Camelot would have given these people a better view of sorcerers. The fact that no less than six patients so far had shied away from him treating their ills was a little disconcerting. He hadn't even mentioned trying to use magic. Had in fact only gotten the clean bandages out and the pots of ointment. Once they had turned away though, the fear or disgust prevalent in their features, he knew there was no reasoning with them, just tried not to show how hurt he was by their distrust and called one of the other healers over and left with a small smile of reassurance. It was not entirely their fault. He had come to the conclusion long ago that people were very much like sheep. They would follow their leaders blindly if they believed it would keep them safe and fed, and they could be exceptionally stubborn about changing their minds, or being open to new ideas.

They had been brought up believing the tales of vengeful, deceitful sorcerers, and had until now been given no demonstrations of anything opposite. It would take a long time for them to see that magic could be used for things other than destruction and the disruption of their lives. The sympathetic looks from some of the injured and the healers did however help to mitigate some of that hurt. There were some who could see past the ends of their noses it seemed.

Then he came to Sir Acton. The one most vehemently against him in the small council. The man had been badly burned all down one side, and across his back, small puncture wounds denoting an explosion of some sort, perhaps even one of the fireballs sent over the walls. He was about to gesture another healer over, knowing the man's stance on magic when he opened his eyes and gripped Merlin's arm with his good hand. The grip was not strong his words even weaker but the intent was clear. "Wou…wou…would you heal me?" The grimace of absolute agony accompanying the words, appealed to Merlin's soft heart and he gripped Sir Actons hand with his own. That he, of all people, had asked for healing was progress.

"I'm not so very good at healing spells but I will do what I can. I can at least take away some of the pain, I will try and do more." The man nodded painfully.

Merlin gestured at one of the other helpers to come and between them removed the soiled bandages carefully though it still elicited small hisses of pain as they pulled at the blistered limbs beneath. These burns were bad. The skin mottled a deep angry red, shiny and wrinkled like the skin had melted. Pustules covering every bit of the red, some weeping and crusty with yellowing fluid, some bleeding freely.

Merlin took a moment to assess them properly, then shutting his eyes, Merlin dredged up the healing spells he knew in his memory, trying to find one for burns. As soon as he recalled one he calmed his breathing opened his eyes and moved his hands to hover over the affected area as he also tried to picture in his mind the flesh cooling, the burns receding and new, healthy pink skin growing in its place.

"_**Forniman sīdece. Colian se dolg bærnett tō **__**þ**__**on **__**þ**__**æt hīe bēon hǣlian." **_His eyes flashed the tell tale gold and almost immediately noticed a difference. Sir Acton had closed his eyes and had given a slight gasp and a smile as the pain abruptly lessened. The open blisters closed completely and scabs formed, the others draining and becoming much smaller. The red became pink and no longer so angry, losing the unnatural sheen and the skin looking a lot healthier. The burns were not gone completely but they now had the look of wounds received months ago rather than a day. They should heal much faster at any rate and be much less painful. It would also mean Sir Acton would be able to continue to use his limbs fully rather than the limited movement he would be left with after losing so much elasticity at the severity of the burns. "I'm sorry I couldn't heal them fully. You still have a way to go but I hope it feels a little better?" Sir Acton opened his eyes then.

"Thank…you! Much…bet.." Merlin patted his hand, You'll sleep for a while. Magical healing takes a lot out of the person casting but also out of the patient. Get some rest. I'll try again tomorrow." He made to leave, to gather more bandages, but Sir Acton's hand shot out once again and Merlin glanced back down at the man. "S…so…Sorry!" Merlin couldn't help the smile. "There's no need. I understand." He patted his hand once again and gently pried his fingers from his sleeve, placing them carefully at Acton's side as the man struggled to keep his eyes open. He would bring people round, even if it was with just one stubborn mule of a person at a time.

…..

**Spell translations**

**Forniman sīdece. Colian se dolg bærnett tō ****þ****on ****þ****æt hīe bēon hǣlian – Take away pain in the side. Cool the burning wounds in order that they be healed.**


	50. Chapter 49 Try to explain

**A/N My updates will probably be every few days now I am sorry. I have just started a new job and it means I have less time to devote to writing. I am however sticking with this and it will be finished soon I think there will probably be only 3 or 4 chapters after this so we are nearly at the end. And I still don't own this programme.**

…

Chapter 49 Try to explain.

Merlin's nostrils were assaulted by the delicious smell of stew as he came through the door of the physician's quarters later that evening, Gaius right behind him. Bette stood over the fire, pot of soup bubbling, another pot hung to the side holding water, cups sitting ready on the table.

The room had obviously been cleaned, since no evidence of the guards ham-handedness remained. In fact the room looked better than it had since Merlin had first moved to Camelot. The surfaces almost clear for once. He knew without looking that Gaius's face would be thunderous, at the invasion, though Merlin could feel nothing but gratitude. They had taken the time and trouble to think of their comfort and they would not have to start cleaning the mess left by the too enthusiastic helpers.

Gaius made to step forward and Merlin put a restraining hand on his arm noting his narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Bette was trying to help and did not deserve a tongue lashing. He would sort everything out later.

"That smells wonderful Bette, thank you." Merlin gave his mentor a significant glance, and he came to his senses enough to thank her too. Since when had it been his job to be **Gaius's** moral compass?

"It was my pleasure. You have both done a lot for us all we wanted to give something back. If we haven't put everything in the right place I'm sorry." Bette served the stew and then left at that, smiling conspiratorially at Merlin. Ha she was more perceptive than he had thought when it came to Gaius's moods.

They were both tired. Sir Acton's request for healing had given rise to several more. Gaius had ended up trailing him and giving instruction as he went. And pleased as he was that his magic was slowly gaining more approval amongst the people, now he just wanted his dinner and his bed.

"So do you want to tell me how you made Morgana become a dragon?" The question so out of the blue, and delivered in so casual a tone momentarily left the warlock with his mouth hanging. This was not how he had wanted this conversation to go.

"Merlin?" He had no idea where to begin. His jaw working but no sound emerging. "You used to tell me everything."

"And I want to tell you this, I just have no clue how to even start…it…Frige said some things, showed me something. I…I don't know what to say!"

"She told you something that has disturbed you. I would like to help if I can. Did she tell you what your name means?" Merlin looked up sharply.

"What? No. I already knew that. It has to do with it but…gads this is horrible, It's even more difficult than I thought. Why the hell couldn't they just not tell me, it would have been simpler, but no my life has to become even more complicated and surreal."

"Merlin what on earth did they tell you?" Merlin took a few moments trying to calm down. If anyone would understand, sympathise and help him deal with the emotional upheaval it was this man.

"When I told you about the ley lines under the castle and Khilgarrah said he couldn't feel them, there was a reason for that. Frige showed them to me, took me down under the foundations. It was beautiful Gaius. I've never seen anything like it. I couldn't understand at first how Khilgarrah could miss it, it was so vast. Now I do, it's not something he is meant to know." He sighed still unsure how to continue. Would Gaius even believe him? "There is a purpose to my being Emrys that is more than just Arthur's protector. Apparently I am the steward of Albion itself. It's caretaker through all the ages to come. Amaethon and Frige chose me before I had even been born. That is what they showed me, Albion's life. I have to take care of it, make sure its heart keeps beating. It is the power I used to create Zoelphis."

"Then…?"

"I'm still human Gaius, but they gave me their abilities. I think it might take me a while to get used to it." He tried for a lopsided smile but it fell flat, and Gaius could see how much this was affecting him. "I will be alright, it's just too much to think on at once." He laughed a short slightly bitter laugh. "To think I came to Camelot believing I would become a nameless physician, albeit an illegal magical one. Who would have thought it would become so complicated?"

…

Iseldir had never felt so unsettled, as the last few weeks. His sight had become clouded as had every other seer in the camp. It had never happened on such a scale before, usually the strongest of them could at least catch glimpses of the possibilities offered. But there had been nothing and it had been frightening, realising that the future was so disturbed as to affect every foreteller within the confines of their settlement.

Despite Mari and Danis's situation in Camelot, there had been no word. No explanation as to what was causing such rapid shifts that the future could no longer be seen. Iseldir had wanted to go to Camelot himself to find out but had been hampered by their need for secrecy. He was known in Camelot and could not afford to endanger his people even with the uneasy truce they had been granted.

All they had been able to do was wait and worry, for no messages other than the ones telling them all was well, had appeared. The utter banality of those missives, merely adding to the confusion rather than detracting from it.

And then last evening there had been a shift. A massive upheaval, making every person with even the slightest amount of seer ability cry out and collapse. The new, future possibilities now flooding through, becoming clear and bright once again. There were differences, startlingly huge ones, and it was apparent that something had been done to effect this change. What that was, however was still a mystery, and Iseldir was impatient to know it.

When Mari had come riding into the camp flanked by two rather obvious knights of Camelot, despite having taken pains to remove the evidence of their origin. And then proceeded to bandy Emrys' name around without the slightest flicker of concern or surprise on the face of the knights. It became imperative to find out exactly what had occurred. Emrys was not supposed to have revealed himself yet. That Arthur was also willingly asking for Iseldir to come to the city to consult with them was also entirely unusual.

There was no question that he would comply with such a request. If Emrys and the Once and future king asked for his assistance he would give it and gladly. That was after all why he had sent Mari in the first place, he had just never expected it to come so soon.

"I need to know as much as possible Mari. This letter is merely a request for a truce and binding peace treaty. I did not believe Arthur to be ready for such as this yet. How did Emrys do this?" The bowl of broth Mari had been sipping was reluctantly lowered and Iseldir could see the pensive expression as she gathered her thoughts.

"Firstly I need to ask, where are my aunt and cousins? I know it doesn't seem like an important thing to ask but it is."

"Earendel left to visit her father's camp a few weeks ago Mari, your cousins are with her. She is expected back in another two weeks." Iseldir's mystification only deepened. Mari closed her eyes already knowing that what her uncle had said about her aunt being captured by Morgana had been true. A single tear tracked its way down her cheek.

"I don't think she is any more. I think Morgana had her. She made Uncle Danis betray us using her and my cousins as hostages. I don't know if they are still alive, since Morgana is gone and there is no-one to ask." Iseldir's astonishment was palpable, Morgana gone? Earendel, Cyre and Gife taken and a betrayal by one who's loyalty had never been questioned before? There was much to be discussed it seemed.

"What happened?"

"Emrys was attacked. A spell Morgana sent apparently. It alerted them to Emrys' magic and Morgana's plans. Morgana had allied herself with Odin and tried to lay siege to the city. The king and Emrys kept it a secret to keep the element of surprise on their side. The battle ended yesterday and Morgana was defeated. Emrys himself told me she was gone."

"Gone? As in dead? Or escaped?"

"I'm not too sure on that point actually. It didn't sound like he meant dead but he also didn't sound worried, as if she had just left but he knew she would trouble them no more. It was a little strange. The king seems to have accepted Emrys' magic completely. He treated him as a brother whilst I was there, and made sure that the knights accompanying me were volunteers that do not mind magic." Mari gave both knights a smile, they had been nothing but courteous and she was grateful. Sir Caradoc gave her a slight bow but remained silent, happy to merely watch the exchange. Bedivere however could not help but add his own comments.

"Merlin asked if I wanted to come specifically because I have discovered I too possess magic. He thought if I came I might find someone willing and able to train me." All their eyes widened, Sir Bedivere had not shared this with his travelling companions it seemed.

"Why couldn't Emrys instruct you himself?" Cene couldn't help but ask, since he was rather curious about why he would withhold teaching from the knight, especially if Arthur had sanctioned it. Bedivere just laughed.

"Oh I think we see things a little differently. He tried to explain some aspects when he was putting some of the defences in place for the siege. I could only follow about half of what he was saying. He told me he had never had a tutor and he saw magic in a way most other magic users might not think of. He thought it a good idea for me to seek out a more conventional instructor once he realised he'd lost me. He seemed rather disappointed not to be able to help, though he did say he would happily explain anything else I might ask. I would be most obliged for any help you could provide."

"Emrys' magic is different. It may be difficult to make the meaning of such differences clear. We will assist you, though learning magic is no easy task. Will you be able to devote the time needed to such an endeavour?"

"Arthur has already given me leave to do so. It is one of the things he wishes to discuss with you. The ban has not been lifted yet but he wishes to do it. He knows it will be a hard road to gain the approval of the people in such a move. He has given Merlin a special dispensation and wants to do the same for others. He wants your advice if you are willing to give it. Merlin recommended you."

"We will go, of course we will. What of our magic?"

"They did say to keep it as discreet as possible until they had had chance to talk to you. There are more supporters for the practice now since Merlin was seen openly using it in defence of the city but the citizens are still wary and since it would have been a delicate piece of political manoeuvring to lift the ban fully during the battle it has remained in place for the moment."

"They have accepted his magic?" Bedivere grimaced slightly.

"Not…exactly. There were a surprising number who did, usually those who already knew him or had not always lived in Camelot. He has gained several more friends from this, but equally he has also gained a few enemies. Altogether it could have been a lot worse." He did not have to say that if his own were revealed right now he would be in a similar situation. Possibly even worse since he was not as well known or liked as much as Merlin.

"Then we will be careful, and help with a plan to show all your people that magic is what we make it."

It did not take long for a small group of people to come forward, volunteering as ambassadors. Iseldir, his son Cene, two older men and a lady of middle years called Selma along with her nephew, another young man, just 14. Really just a boy, who had been to Camelot several times before. Iseldir had been reluctant to include him, being so young. But for all his tender years he had a forceful yet serene personality and strong magic. Not to mention that his life was also marked by destiny. Perhaps it would be good to bring him. The boy's face was all eagerness, and hope as Iseldir turned to him.

"Alright you may accompany us." The young lad grinned as his eyes lit up.

"I won't let you down."

"See that you don't. And Mordred…" He scampered off to pack, turning back once again as Iseldir called his name. "Be careful, and behave." He nodded once and when they set out early the next morning, his face was the most serious of them all.


	51. Chapter 50 Peace and purpose

**A/N I know, I know it is getting longer between updates. But seriously I'm bushed! I have fallen asleep every night on the sofa whilst trying to write, since my new job is physically demanding and I am so not used to it. I wake every morning with a crick in my neck and disappointment that I didn't get to write more. I finally finished this chapter in the car on the way back from the seaside. (Where I built my version of Camelot in the sand.)**

**...**

Chapter 50 Peace and purpose.

High places had always held a particular fascination for Merlin. Especially those of man made origin. Camelot's towers and miles of crenellated battlements offered sanctuary when he needed time and space to think, to plan or simply to remove himself from Arthurs's presence when he was being particularly dim-witted or prattish to calm down enough to be able to deal with both him and his destiny in a more objective frame of mind.

There were alcoves and small crawl spaces aplenty where no-one thought to look for one skinny servant hiding from fate or one too many insults or goblets to the back of his head. It was to one of these he was heading now.

The explanation to Gaius earlier having shaken the small measure of control and calm he had gained after the revelation of his godhood. He was still swinging wildly between not believing that he, Merlin a peasant could have been born with the power of a god, and knowing instinctively that yes this was what and where he was meant to be. It meant he couldn't sleep. He had tossed and turned for hours finally giving up and seeing the moon full and clear through his small window decided a little air might help.

The clouds from earlier had disappeared and though the air was a little chilly, the stars shone bright and clear as crystal, the wind had died out and it was a perfect night to think. It was in fact so bright with the starlight and moonshine that Merlin couldn't miss the legs splayed out from the recumbent form of Khilgarrah. He hadn't really wanted company but the dragon would understand more than anyone the burdens of living a very long life. Perhaps it would be good to talk after all.

"Khilgarrah? Are you awake?" The bulk of the dragon turned man, Shifted as he sat up. Moving so he leaned against the wall at his back.

"Ah Merlin. What brings you out here on such a fine night?"

"I couldn't sleep." Merlin folded his legs under him as he sat next to the dragon. "I told some of what Frige told me to Gaius earlier. I couldn't keep it from him."

"He knows then, what you are?" Merlin merely nodded.

"How can **I** be a god? I was born into the life of a peasant."

"They chose you Merlin because you never were just a peasant. Even had the gods not chosen you, you would have been a strong warlock, as your father was before you. And just like your father you are a Dragonlord. Do not underestimate yourself or your importance."

"I'm beginning to realise it. I just never thought I was before. Even when Mordred called me Emrys the first time and I found its meaning in the druid tongue. I knew there must be a reason they would want me to live forever if that was indeed what it meant. I never thought it would involve so much. Did you know? All those years ago when you first called to me, you knew me without ever having met me but did you know I had been claimed by the gods?"

"I knew the gods of the old religion had to have some input in your creation, you hold too much magic for a mere human sorcerer to not have had some divine help. But no I did not realise that both Frige and Amaethon would claim kinship. To be a demi-god child of even one minor deity is nothing to be sneered at, but they are both major gods Merlin. There will be none but the gods themselves who will be your equal in the magic you wield. But remember, you are young yet even in human years. Your experience and strength will build over time just as it does for any sorcerer or warlock. You will still stumble and fall on occasion, but I hope now you also realise that there are many who are willing to bolster you just as you have done for others."

"It feels odd, to have people know of my magic. For so long I was terrified of loosing those I love to blind prejudice. It seems I may have been worrying over the wrong thing."

"I admit that Arthur especially has been proving my original opinion of him wrong. I believe I may have let my hatred of Uther's campaign against my kin spill over onto Arthur's shoulders. He is not his father and I must try to remember that." Khilgarrah sighed mightily. "My present form is a punishment from Amaethon. He was severely displeased with my handling of you and both your destiny's. It has been rather enlightening to see your lives unfold in such a manner, and I have come to realise that though Arthur has in the past committed several serious mistakes, he is trying now to rectify them. It takes a wise man to admit his faults and learn from them, just as you have, just as I now need to. Amaethon was right, I did manipulate you. I did not realise until these days amongst you that there is more to human nature than dragons are usually privy to. I must apologise for that."

"There really isn't any need to. You have been more than supportive these last years. Even before my father died. I understand how much you went through, and you have become a friend. People make mistakes no matter their race. We just have to realise that with such power at our disposal the mistakes are usually worse than those made by ordinary men, and affect so many more lives than just our own."

"You have become very wise over these years young warlock. More so than I would have thought when you first came bumbling into my prison." Merlin laughed at that.

"Do you know Gaius said something very similar to me when we were trying to take the citadel back from Morgause's immortal army? I was rather naïve."

"You were barely more than a child. You seem to have grown since then." Khilgarrah's smirk was barely concealed, and Merlin had to smile, this had started out as a way to be alone, now he was rather glad of the company.

"We have a habit of doing that, I believe dragons do too. I wonder what you were like when you were a child. Speaking of growing, do you know when you are to be turned back to your normal self? It's a little unnerving to keep looking up expecting you to be heads and shoulders above me and you're actually the same size."

"That would be round about now actually." The voice came out of the dark shadows by the wall and was deep. Resonating with power and command. Merlin scrambled to his feet aware of a hum in the magic all around him. Khilgarrah still sat where Merlin had left him, unconcerned and mostly unsurprised.

"Ah Amaethon. I was beginning to wonder if my penance was to be permanent."

"You have served your charge well in this instance Khilgarrah, and have started the process of reinstating the dragons and their lords. If this world is to survive with any degree of harmony you must understand one another. The purging of magic and its creatures cannot happen again. I am here because you are well on the way to understanding those you tried to harm and must now go and share this lesson with your young kin. Teach them well Khilgarrah the future of your race depends upon it." The God stared at Khilgarrah with a gimlet eye, brow raised enquiringly, waiting for Khilgarrah's compliance before turning to his now aware son.

"You are Amaethon god of magic?" His features morphed into amusement and deep mischief not unlike Merlin's occasional expression.

"I am. And you are Emrys, my son. How do you like your mother?" Merlin looked nonplussed for only a second before returning Amaethon's expression perfectly.

"Oh I like them both very well indeed, as you probably know already."

"Ha. I like you Emrys. Just as refreshing as Khilgarrah! No reverence at all. Now how about a lesson in magic? Think you can transform a dragon?"

"What? Me? Now?"

"No time like the present. You are here, he is here, I am here. We may as well take advantage of that fact. You must learn to wield your gifts at some point and better whilst I am here to guide you." Merlin audibly gulped. Alright he could do this. He squared his shoulders, and straightened his back, stepping forward .

"What do I need to do?" A sense of pride filtered out from the god and Merlin drew himself up a little more.

"Here. Place your hands upon his shoulders." Merlin did so Amaethon placed his hands atop Merlin's and whereas Frige's touch was calming and tranquil not unlike the earth she represented, Amaethon was energy and power the thrill felt like the tingle of lightning when it struck a little too near for comfort. "Now feel for the thread connecting Khilgarrah to Albion. You will know when you find it." Merlin closed his eyes and concentrated on the magic around him feeling Amaethon subtly guiding his sight for the delicate differences he now knew were there. The magic under the human and dragon magic, the very fabric of life itself. There the steady pulse as of a slow heartbeat. He opened his inner senses fully to see threads of shimmering gold in different thicknesses from every living thing, connected to Albion's heart. Other threads, smaller and fainter leading off to other plants or animals, familial ties perhaps? They differed in colour, glowing with hints of every shade imaginable. Plant life tinged in varying yellows and greens. Rocks with a faint white or silvery grey haze and earth a faint coppery fog not really threads as such. Animals ranged from red through to blue. Khilgarrah shone a deep and regal gold that was imbued with a purple that was more red than blue. The colour seemed off somehow, though how Merlin could tell he wasn't entirely certain since he had never done this before. He reached out instinctively with his own magic and nudged the colour back to the bluer shade he felt it should be and heard a gasp, and a groaning scrape of stone as if something heavy had settled. His eyes flew open to reveal Khilgarrah once again back to his original form, looking rather dazed.

"Oh my good lord, did I do that? Are you alright Khilgarrah?" Khilgarrah shook his head a little. Amaethon stood smirking proprietarily at the side, arms folded across his chest. When had he removed his hands?

"It was a little unexpected, and certainly faster than Amaethon managed when he made me human. It feels peculiar to be myself again. I believe I will rest a while if you could conceal me from prying eyes. I wish to be comfortable in my skin again before I attempt to fly."

"The concealing charm has already been set up Khilgarrah. I did not think Merlin would wish for such magic to be out on display. Merlin felt entirely grateful.

"You did very well Emrys and with very little nudging on my part. I do believe you get your magical talent from me."

"What exactly did I do?"

"Those threads you saw are the auras of all life on this good earth. When I changed Khilgarrah from dragon to human his aura became distorted, changed. That is why the colour seemed odd. You saw the change and rectified it, healed it in a sense. It is why you could not change him back before. You were not trying to use your gift of creation and balance. Your human magic could not compete with this, it is entirely different. You know now how to see the changes that affect that balance and can heal them. It will become easier every time you use it. There is one thing I need you to do with it. It is one reason I had you practice now."

"Alright, I'm guessing it's important so what is it you need me to do?"

"As you know not every son of a Dragonlord becomes one themselves. Only the first born male will gain that ability. But all males are born with the potential. It ensures continuation of the line in the event the eldest son predeceases the father. If that happens the next male heir becomes the Dragonlord. It passes down as a latent talent in all the second and third son's. You must find those with this potential to become the new Dragonlord's, and bring their talent to the fore. You must gain permission from those you find with this unlocked gift. They must all be willing, it will not be an easy thing to ask of them, and not all will chose such a path."

"Oh damn. And how exactly do I get them to agree to it without revealing I happen to be your offspring? I just knew it was too good to be true when I got a lie in this morning. It's usually a precursor to my life getting even more hectic than usual."

"You're a very resourceful man Merlin Emrys I'm sure you will think of something."

Merlin merely groaned in response. Amaethon laughed a little and then took pity. It had been a long couple of weeks and his son was showing the strain of keeping positive whilst so much was thrown his way.

"It is not so very difficult. All those with potential are those with magic. But since Dragonlord's were such a secretive people their knowledge became lost over the years. There are not many who now know how the gift is passed on. Most only do so because a Dragonlord has told them. You would be unlikely to come across any. You could say that a current Dragonlord can bestow such a gift in times of great need. I would class this as a time of great need. The details can be worked out later. For now try and practice your sight as much as possible. You never know when one of those with such a talent will cross your path." The smile was rather smug Merlin thought. He knew something. It was very possible that someone was already within the warlock's reach or at least soon would be. He would do as Amaethon requested. It would be interesting to find out what this new gift would show him and he was both eager and excited to try it on his own.


	52. Chapter 51 After the fact

**A/N Okay will nearly 3'500 words make up for how long this has taken to post? Huh. Thought not. I have nothing to say in my defence except writers block. And I hope you like because I don't know what I will do if you don't. **

**Even though I started writing this in April I still don't own Merlin, Why is it taking so looooonnnnngggggg?**

…..

Chapter 51 After the fact.

Mordred could still vividly remember the last two occasions of his being in Camelot. Neither of which had been especially pleasant. The first he had lost his father and nearly lost his own life. The second time he had lost almost everyone else. Those left after the raid by Camelot's soldiers had joined Iseldir's camp as refugees and though they had been all that was welcoming and had been unstinting in their care. There had been a reluctance within the group with regards to himself. He had never understood it.

It was almost as if he had been caught in some misdemeanour but had never been told exactly what he had done or what the punishment would be. It kept him almost constantly on edge, and made him feel very isolated and alone. The only time it had ever stopped was when Iseldir had taken him out for private tutoring in his gifts. Even his aunt had been giving him sideways glances that made him feel like a particularly interesting beetle being studied.

He did not believe he had helped his case of fitting in when he had been so outspoken on the subject of Emrys as a precocious seven year old. He had not been complimentary when they had found he had met the man, being too resentful and disillusioned at what he had done. His hero turning out to be no more than a man as flawed as the rest of humanity despite being heralded as a legend. His magic was phenomenal there was no doubt of that. Even as a child he had felt the strength and purity of it but his blind faith in the larger than life character from the stories he had so loved as a youngster had been severely shaken. His anger had faded over the years between and now as an almost fifteen year old he could appreciate that things were not always simple black and white. He had also been at fault on the occasion of their second meeting, though he still wanted an explanation as to why he would go to such extreme measures against a gullible boy. Mordred grimaced slightly at just how naïve he had been back then. His belief in Alvarr as sadly misplaced as that of Emrys.

He hoped that as they had been invited into Camelot that some of his faith might be restored. He had heard of the pledge Arthur had given and his heart had leapt with joy at even this small measure of the prophecy being fulfilled. Perhaps his assessment of Merlin's capabilities as Emrys had been flawed. He would see. In any case he wanted to know what had happened to everyone else who had helped him all those years ago. He had heard Morgana had become opposed to Arthur's rule and though he sympathised with her on one level he couldn't help but think her methods just a little extreme, especially in light of the recent invitation. Gwen, Arthur and to some extent Gaius had all looked after him and helped him escape that first time and he wished to extend the thanks he was incapable of expressing on his first visit and apologise for his actions on his second.

And so it was as the white towers of Camelot came into view through the trees and the limestone walls loomed overhead that he strode forward with a renewed air of barely suppressed excitement and anticipation. This could be the start of something wonderful or an unmitigated disaster. Either way it would be the start of a new era, hopefully it would be the golden one of prophecy.

…..

The corridors were filled with mostly servants running here there and everywhere. A few of the citizens also walked the halls, mainly those who's homes had been damaged too badly to afford a quick repair, the nobles not inclined to help with the clean up effort kept to their chambers as was the usual response.

Merlin was bleary eyed from staying on the battlements until the wee hours, keeping Khilgarrah company till he felt steady enough to fly without the fear of immediately crashing upon take off. He only hoped Arthur would understand once he explained why he was late with breakfast this morning. At that Merlin had to smile to himself at least he didn't have to come up with some half baked excuse this time. Being able to tell him **exactly** what he had been up to without fear of his magic being discovered or sounding half deranged was liberating to say the least.

Liberating but with it's down side, he sighed once more as a servant he had known for years now and had always been greeted with a smile suddenly turned pale at the sight of him and put his head down shuffling off at the furthest edge of the corridor he could physically get without climbing the walls. The reactions to his magic were mixed to say the least. Some couldn't care less what he could do, going by what they had known of his manner before all the kerfuffle with Morgana and Odin. Some like the young lad hurriedly making his way out of the presence of the mighty sorcerer, became terrified and wouldn't even look at him for fear of drawing his attention and his wrath. He would laugh if it weren't so dratted wretched.

They needed time, and to see that just because his affinity for magic had come to light it made him no different than he had always been, just a little less useless looking. Still whilst he waited for them all to come around it was a mite uncomfortable and would continue to be so for some little while. At least no-one had actively sought to nullify the perceived danger his kind represented and that was all to the good. Fear he could deal with, outright anger and hostility would be a little harder to manage, since he didn't want to get into a fight with anyone. That would defeat the purpose of showing people that magic was more helpful than violent. Thankfully no-one had outright challenged him and common sense was prevailing for the moment. In all the situation could most assuredly be worse and all he now had to do was hang on until people could have a chance to really look at magic and it's users and realise they had only ever seen one side of the story. He just hoped the situation would continue if the druids decided to take up the invitation thrown at them so precipitately.

The kitchens were bustling as he made his way inside and started to gather the king and queens usual breakfast fare. Trying all the while not to notice the suddenly hushed atmosphere at his entrance. Agnes presided over the huge steaming vat of porridge, ladling it with expert precision into the small bowls lined ready for such offerings. The dazzling smile she turned on him as he sidled over to appropriate two bowls almost made up for the rather more frosty reception of the rest of the staff.

"A little late again Merlin?"

"Yeah I overslept." The sheepish expression and rueful grin made Agnes chuckle as usual. No stranger to Merlin's late arrivals.

"I think Arthur might overlook it this once. But just so you know George came by earlier asking if he was to serve breakfast. You might want to have a word there Merlin. I'm not sure he understands you still wanting to serve the king."

"Why wouldn't I? I'm Arthurs servant. I'm happy to serve. Arthur knows that."

"It's just there's a rumour floating round that you're a lord, and lords don't serve. Even without your magic thrown into the mix. I think they just thought you would be doing something other than picking up after the king." She looked at the warlock enquiringly, as if trying to see if he was one by his reaction alone. Good gods how did people find these things out? No-one knew his noble heritage except Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Geoffrey and himself. He hadn't told anyone, He knew Arthur, Gwen and Gaius wouldn't without his permission and he really couldn't see Geoffrey indulging in gossip, he hardly ever left his precious books to eat let alone go traipsing off to find an amenable audience for tall tales. The only way to head this off was to give a partial truth and hope it would be enough to stem the tide.

"Even if I were a lord I would still serve Arthur with all I have in me and having magic doesn't change anything. I still have to eat and to do that I have to earn a wage, I trust you will tell the rumour mongers just that." At that a slow smile bloomed across the older cooks face, making her look less fierce than usual.

"Oh I will don't you worry none, I'll make sure of it."

…...

Arthur was awake but not dressed yet as Merlin knocked and entered the king's chambers, loaded tray in hand, a short while after leaving the stifling confines of the kitchen. Arthur stood by the window, arms crossed leaning against the drapery as he brooded. Something was wrong, Arthur staring at nothing from the windows was not a good sign.

"What's happened now? Has Odin done something? The lower town repairs going badly? What?" Arthur turned to him at the first question, looking unaccountably serious as Merlin lowered his tray to the table in the main room.

"You actually."

"Me? What about me? As far as I know nothing else has happened to me or am I missing a few more days?" Merlin's attempt at levity and idiocy to try and lift Arthur's mood fell flat when Arthur just kept staring steadily at him. Studying him, Merlin started feeling a little uncomfortable under his contemplative gaze.

"Do you know I have had no less than a dozen people since yesterday telling me that I am a fool to trust you? And another dozen telling me they always knew there was something odd about you and Magic makes so much sense. The worst of them are the fawning type who praise me to the skies for being intelligent enough to have you quietly training as a secret weapon. It's enough to make me sick the way people are using this as a political bargaining tool and seeing you as nothing more than a glorified crossbow, I just have to aim and let fly. I'm pretty sure you must be on the receiving end of quite a lot of flack from this and yet you're acting like nothing has changed." Ah **that** was what was bothering him. The reaction of the young servant from before came to mind.

"Arthur we knew this would happen. You cannot just sweep thirty years of prejudice under a rug and hope no-one notices. There was bound to be fall out from this and to be honest it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Yes it's not ideal, and yes it can be painful when those I have known for years won't even look at me, but I can't let it get to me and neither can you. Ignore it. Show by example not by words. People don't tend to believe so much in words when it's something so large anyway. If we carry on as if it's business as usual, very soon people will start to realise it **is**. I only hope it won't take another thirty years for the memories to fade. This cycle of hate is all some people have ever known, only the older generation know what it was like before the purge. Can you honestly say that had you not known me, and seen me stood by your side for all these years, you would have believed wholeheartedly in my character enough to overlook my magic?" The shake of the head was reluctant but honest at least. "Time is all we can give them and space enough to learn. We have to do this slowly or there will be panic and fear and revolt. It is the last thing I would ever want for this kingdom and I know it would be the last thing on your mind. Don't worry so much about me and other magic users. We know the day will come when we can walk proud and free. We just have to be patient. Freeing the druids was the first step, the treaty will be the second. After that it will be up to you to lead us as quick or as slow as you think the kingdom can handle. Just know I will always be here to lend a hand if you need me."

"And just who will be there to catch you if you fall, because lets be honest between your feet and your balance it will happen at some point?"

"Is that your way of saying you aren't going to be there right at the front of all my friends rushing to prop me up?" Expecting another joking reply he was deeply affected when Arthur just came over and squeezed his shoulder face serious.

"I will always try to be first in line, just as you always have for me. You are my brother Merlin. Part of the only family I have, worthy of the name. I am only sorry it took too long to see. Please don't keep me in the dark again?"

"I will try not to but…there are things I don't want to tell anyone…

thing's I haven't even told my own mother."

"Fair enough but, anything to do with the safety of this kingdom and I need to know it." His serious demeanour melted slightly and pure mischief took over. "Now as to your punishment for being late once again…"

"Prat! I was up late last night seeing to the needs of the kingdom if you must know, I didn't purposefully sleep in."

"Come on then what was it this time? A dearth of clean underwear for the knights? Gaius ran out of his favourite herbal tea?"

"How about a visit from a god?"

"You know I've come to the conclusion you are loving this. You seem entirely too smug lately that you can just shout about random magical acts and expect people to take them at face value."

"You're never happy are you? I don't tell you things because you wouldn't believe me. You aren't pleased so I do tell you things and you don't believe me. I really did have a visit from Amaethon."

"Alright so what did he want? I thought Frige had explained everything."

"Oh I don't think she came close to explaining everything. She just gave me the facts she thought I could handle at the time. Amaethon came for two things the first being that Khilgarrah is back in his original form and has gone hunting. I had to stay with him till he felt able to go off on his own. He was just a tad wobbly." Arthur had to smile at the mental imagery of a shaky looking dragon. "The second was something I need to tell you about Amaethon's visit." Here he paused frustrated at his inability to be able to explain properly. "He came to explain some of my abilities, parts of my Dragonlord heritage lost when they were killed in the purge. Zoelphis was just the beginning. Now there are to be more dragons there is a need for more Dragonlords."

"But there are no more. You are the last or are there some in hiding?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean sort of? Either there are or there aren't." Merlin sighed heavily.

"Arthur, do you have any idea how hard it is to explain anything magical to you? Half the stuff explained to me over the last few days barely makes sense and I **am **magic."

Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. "Merlin just tell me if I don't understand it I'll ask. Just stop delaying and get on with it."

"The ability of a Dragonlord is passed on from father to son right?"

"Yes. Gaius explained as much."

"What he may not have realised and I certainly didn't know was that the ability is passed as a latent talent to **all** the sons of a Dragonlord. It ensured the best survival rate amongst Dragonlord's in case of a son dying before the father. Only the eldest **surviving** son becomes the next lord but not necessarily the eldest born."

"Which means what exactly? The families of the dragonlord's were also hunted down and killed."

"It means that the talent has passed from father to son through all the second and third branches throughout the ages, the ones Uther probably never heard of because they were several generations removed and even if he had known of them would never have seen them as a threat because he thought they couldn't inherit." Arthur cottoned on fairly quickly his features morphing from deep confusion to understanding in a matter of moments. "Arthur there are still potential lords out there. I just have to find those with the ability buried deep. They may not even know they are descended from the Dragonlord's. Amaethon tasked me with finding them and activating the ability."

"And he couldn't do this himself? It doesn't sit well that he seems to be manipulating everything at the moment to his satisfaction and not explaining anything about why."

"But he did. I just don't seem to be able to explain it to anyone else very well. It has to do with me being the only Dragonlord. As the last one at this time I'm the only person who can do this. If the situation were not so dire and I didn't have such a strong magical gift, I don't think it would be possible. He showed me how to identify them and bring it to the fore but I have to gain their permission to do it. Not everyone will want this ability. From what he said I think there is at least one if not more either here already or will be in the near future and if he thought it prudent to point them out they have to be important. I don't think a god would stir themselves for anything less."

"So I could potentially have several Dragonlord's running round the castle all unknowing? They certainly like to make complicated and harrowing situations worse don't they? Will there come a time when magic will ever be easy?" Merlin just laughed trying to find the humour in the situation regardless.

"Welcome to my life Arthur! It has been like this since I got here. One crisis after another. Admittedly not usually this many in one go but hey after all this is over we should be due for a very long break!"

"I bloody well hope so. There isn't much more I can take, and we still have Odin and the druids to deal with. How the hell did you cope for so long doing this day in day out without anyone knowing?"

"Not entirely sure on that point what with you being such a prat and all." Arthur just shoved his shoulder at the teasing banter.

"Would you serve Odin whilst he is here? I don't entirely trust him and I need someone who can contain him if he decides to renege and do something stupid. House arrest or not he is dangerous." Merlin chuckled.

"He has a broken ankle. He can't go very far. I don't think even he would be stupid enough to try anything but yes I'll serve him. I'll go see if he's had breakfast brought up now. Is there anything else you need before I go."

"No, just…stay safe. Don't hesitate to call on me or the round table knights if someone gets out of line in regards to your magic. I mean it, you are family and I won't see you harmed."

"Arthur I'll be fine. Trust me." With one last grin he left to serve the man who had until yesterday vowed to kill Camelot's king.


	53. Chapter 52 To serve a king

**A/N Well it's not been two weeks so I must be doing well. I seem to have my writing Mojo back at least. Lets just see how long it lasts shall we? **

**I must say when I started this I did not realise I was writing a novel. Oh well it has kept me out of trouble for a little while. And I don't own anything about Merlin. Just my version of Bedivere and Mari and my other minor characters.**

**...**

Chapter 52 To serve a king.

Odin had not had the most comfortable evening. Castle guest chamber rather than dungeon notwithstanding, the pain of his ankle and head had prevented restful sleep and he was now feeling less than cheerful. There had been no communication with anyone as yet. Even the castle servants had yet to appear and his mood was hardly improved by the lack of breakfast and medical care. So when the knock came he was hardly in the best frame of mind to be polite.

The blistering tongue lashing he was all set to deliver however died before it was uttered as he registered the man staggering under the weight of the loaded tray. This was the pet sorcerer? Acting as a servant and his clothes looked if anything even more dishevelled than they had the day before, creased and skewed as they were. Odin had never held with Uther's policies regarding sorcery and he had several magic users as valued members of his court. None of them would be seen dead in this mans get up and would be horrified if asked to serve breakfast to any visiting guest, even if said guest were not being held under house arrest.

This man looked like nothing so much as a lowly serving boy. He would never have guessed at his having any magic at all. Perhaps that was it, Odin had seen this man performing the shield but that may be all he could do. Kept on only because the shield was useful. He didn't even look all that intelligent and Odin scoffed. Arthur had probably made him learn such a spell in order to make himself look better when Morgana had come to call. It was the kind of deviousness he would expect of a Pendragon. Although there had been that curious exchange yesterday just outside of his cell, that spoke of an attachment from the king towards this man. It was just too confusing.

One of the knights had accompanied the boy into the room and stood by the door looking round with an insolent roguish grin. This was the same man who had been fighting him when he fell if he were not much mistaken. At the realisation a wave of humiliation and anger flowed through him and he couldn't help the harsh yell, pointing his finger at the knight in ill concealed fury. "You! Get out, now!"

"Sorry m'lord no can do. There are to be two people in the room at any one time. Arthurs's orders!" He patted the hilt of his sword rather fondly as he said it, almost daring the king to try something. And all the while that grin never wavered. The servant just carried right on laying the breakfast out though he did dart a glance at the knight that Odin couldn't interpret fully. It was almost as if the man was annoyed and frustrated in equal measure.

As he turned back to Odin however the mask of subservience slipped back over his features and he bowed respectfully taking a step back and asking politely if there would be anything else. "I wish to speak to my men boy. And I need something for this damned foot."

"I'm afraid my lord that until King Arthur has had a chance to speak to you, it will not be permitted to communicate with your men. But I will endeavour to arrange the court physician Gaius to see to your medical needs." Another short bow and the man left. The knight by the door's grin had gotten wider and seemed to grow slightly evil when the servant paused slightly by the door and muttered something to the man.

Just who was he. His assessment of his intelligence was far out it seemed, his speech and vocabulary were far superior to most servants he knew and his tone though polite had been very firm and no-nonsense as if he expected to be obeyed.

"Who was that man?" The knights grin if anything just got wider and even more insolent.

"That?" His thumb hooked over his shoulder. "Oh that's Merlin. The king's personal manservant."

"His manservant?!"

"Who also happens to be his most trusted friend and advisor and one of the most powerful warlocks you'll ever meet!" His laughter was mocking as he shut the door firmly on the invaders shocked face.

This kingdom was utterly mad. Just what the hell had he signed up for with this treaty?

…..

Arthur was being overprotective again.

And Gwaine could clearly see how annoyed Merlin was by the gesture. But oh it was amusing watching him grind his teeth. It was about time the princess started looking out for the man. From what he had worked out about Merlin's use of his magic over the years there had been so many instances of Merlin looking out for him, the warlock was now well overdue for some care of his own. No matter that he was still playing at being manservant to their king, it was clear it was only because Merlin had asked to stay there that he was being indulged. It had rankled that Merlin hadn't been promoted and all the knights had told the king in so many words, until Arthur had made it clear that Merlin was calling the shots in this. Honestly Merlin seemed to have an aversion to getting the recognition he so deserved. Anyone else would have bitten Arthur's hand off to become his official advisor, and it wasn't as if it was a new position either. He had been doing it in an unofficial capacity for years.

It had been even more amusing to tweak Odin's nose. And though he would probably pay dearly for it later, when Arthur got wind of it, it had been worth it to see the smug git's face when he realised he had been served by a man who could have killed him with a thought. And had the complete trust and friendship of the king no matter how lowly he looked. It would be even better if they followed pattern and had a banquet to honour both the fallen warriors and to mark the end of the negotiations for lasting peace. The knights had a plan to ambush Arthur and make him give Merlin a place at such a feast. Their victory was mostly assured by the warlock and it wouldn't be right for him to be serving rather than enjoying. After all what kind of message would it send to the rest of the kingdom if the man they owed their lives to had to stand in the background once again, overlooked and disregarded despite his valiant efforts to defend them?

If necessary Gwaine would use his trump card and tell him that **none** of the knights would show if Merlin did not. He hoped he had to use that one. He couldn't wait to see Arthur's and Merlin's faces when they realised **all** the knights who had defended the city with them had now accepted him. Admittedly there was still token grumbling about not knowing people they had been living beside for years, and the sight of him performing magic still made certain ones uncomfortable. But after seeing him fight for them so tirelessly and then trying to heal them after the battle despite being given more than one cold shoulder, and still happily serving their king in the same position he had held from the beginning he had gained considerable respect (even if the serving aspect caused several raised eyebrows). It was a rather significant victory on the road to the ban being repealed and Gwaine was not the only one glad of it. Now they just had to work on the relationships between the servants, nobles and citizens. It was fine. Gwaine always did love a challenge. Especially when there were so many odds stacked against them.

…..

As soon as the towers had come into view Sir Bedivere had mounted his horse spurred it to a gallop and gone ahead to inform the king of the druid delegation's imminent arrival.

He found Arthur going over the damage and progress reports on the town buildings and checking the details for the funerals to be held the following evening. The pyres were being built by volunteers outside the city walls. The fallen men of both sides were to be remembered together in an act that was unprecedented but would hopefully help the talks toward peace. Arthur only prayed that it would be seen in the spirit in which it was meant and there would be no acts of revenge upon the invading army for the losses suffered by the defenders. The knights would be a visible presence throughout and surely act as a deterrent.

The sight of Sir Bedivere was a welcome one. The details of the solemn rites now complete. "Sir Bedivere what news? Have they accepted?"

"They have sire. They are nearly upon us. I came ahead to inform you they would be here within the hour." The two servants stood at the side of the room were beckoned forward and the first dispatched to make rooms ready for their new guests. "Have them all placed together, I'm not sure they will be entirely comfortable if separated." A bow and the servant scurried away. "Could you find Merlin? Tell him we have guests and I need him here now." The servant audibly gulped but nodded anyway and ran off to do as his king commanded. Arthur looked after him till he disappeared from view, pensive frown on his face and then shaking his head turned back to his knight. "Tell me, how did he seem when Mari delivered the news and the letter?"

"He seemed very surprised and a little worried to learn that Merlin had revealed his magic. Kept saying they were not expecting it to happen yet. Also said something about paths deviating that we didn't really understand." The king sighed and closed his eyes, wincing at the memory of Merlin telling him the path the gods had worked at preventing would have led to his early death. No Bedivere wouldn't understand. **He** didn't understand most of it even when it had been explained. The information that magic could be used to tell the future was an uncomfortable knowledge even as he realised he would never have to experience such an ability. No wonder Morgana had woken screaming on so many nights before everything went to hell. He didn't know how she had managed to stand it for so long, knowing things in advance and having to watch helplessly as they played out in front of her. It was what had driven him to not seek her out and kill her since her betrayal.

Quite apart from his inability to separate the mad witch from his loving, if sharp tongued, friend and sister in his mind. They all bore some measure of blame for her decent into the depths. Uther for his stance on magic of any kind and his dangerous secrets. Gaius for keeping the knowledge of her heritage and magic from her. The terrible damage Merlin had unwillingly caused when faced with such horrendous choices. And his own wilful ignorance and gullibility for believing everything his father ever taught him with very little real evidence to back it up. He had been blind to so many things. It made him wonder once again how people could hold such faith in his leadership if he could not help those closest to him when they needed him the most.

"Sire?"He had paused in his reverie too long. His face bearing the marks of strain these last days had caused. Bedivere shifted uncomfortably.

"It's fine Bedivere all is well. I know of what you speak. Tell me of the delegation. Who do they bring?"

"It is a small party sire just seven if you include the young woman Mari. Iseldir brought his son Cene. Two brothers Toben and Marten, elders from what I can gather though they don't say much. Another woman Selma, very strict and upright though has a wicked humour. And her nephew though I don't think he is to be part of the negotiations, he's only 14. The woman Selma is his Aunt." Arthur waved that piece of information away. There had been many instances of young people accompanying family members to peace treaties over the years. At 14 it was unlikely he would be part of the talks and the would just have to find him something to occupy his time and keep him out of trouble.

"Well whilst he is here he will be your responsibility to look after and keep entertained. Just make sure if he does have magic to remind him to be careful. The nobles especially have been very unwelcoming of Merlin's abilities and they have been acquainted with him for a long time. There is no telling what they would do with an unknown boy." Bedivere nodded. He didn't mind. The young lad had been good company on the way here, chatty but mature for his age. It would be no real chore to show him Camelot and he had seen no evidence of magic from him. Either he was exceptionally good at hiding it, and therefore he didn't really need to remind him the ban was still in place, or he just didn't have any.


	54. Chapter 53 The magic that binds us

**A/N I know it has taken a while to get to this point in my tale but there isn't much plot left. Promise. I have come to the conclusion I can't say things simply and hope for the best. I get images in my head of what is happening and have to record all the tiny insignificant looking details even as I realise it wouldn't really be the same if I didn't. You have all been so very patient with me and absolutely amazing with your responses, I just hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed putting my mentality down on paper (or in this case, screen).**

**I don't own Camelot or any of its citizens, magical or otherwise.**

…

Chapter 53 The magic that binds us.

Just as he had promised Amaethon, Merlin had been practicing. Sharpening and honing his new ability every chance he could. What he found was fascinating.

There were more colours in life than he had ever seen before. People and animals all had a unique colour signature and pattern though animals ones were simpler and smaller. The beauty of their auras sparkled. It was like seeing a rainbow for the first time.

His friends were surprisingly not the very first to be seen through new eyes. His shift in vision not accompanied by the usual slight sting of his eyes flashing briefly to gold had him curious, and so the second time he had done it in front of Arthur's mirror. Whilst the king toured the lower town with his wife to check progress and reassure his people that the crown did indeed care for their livelihoods as much as their lives.

It had been a shock to see himself do magic with no outward sign. Yet another piece that marked him as otherworldly. And in the mirror his aura had shone the brightest white gold with no extra colour woven through. The same pure shine of power the life force of Albion was hued with. If ever he needed proof that here was no mere man this was it. His hand had unconsciously reached out to touch the image in the cool glass, mesmerised by the reflection. Then George had clattered in to the king's quarters with the basket Merlin had forgotten to retrieve from the castle laundry and the spell was broken.

Still using the sight he had viewed the part time manservant with just a touch of awe, George's aura had been sky blue, the colour of a cloudless summer morning. Clear and bright and hopeful, very different to the dour individual Merlin had always seen. He had shown within it a willingness to serve almost rivalling Merlin's own, and a deep seated longing to be useful. And Merlin had realised, the colours and patterns meant something.

Gwen was a deep crimson red, earthy and steadfast and loyal. Elyan similar but the colour edging towards orange rather than a pink hue more tempestuous. Arthur was blue, Ironic really since the Pendragon banner was red. But it was such a pure royal blue, steady and strong and courageous it suited him down to the ground. Gwaine had been a turquoise as fun and complex as he always tried to be. Perceval deepest burgundy, with hidden depth and wisdom. Leon's held a hint of a purple that spoke of his determination, intelligence and bravery.

But it wasn't just their virtues or their personalities he could read within them. It was almost as if he could read their very life stories from it. As if he could reach out and touch one of the strands making up their twisted rope of a tether, and know everything about what had shaped their very being. It was a frightening ability in a way, he could so very easily abuse such power. But he knew also, that he would never even try to pry. He of all people knew the value of secrets.

There were things though on the surface that were easy to read. Gwaine's noble family, and his almost excessive fondness for mead. Arthur's and Gwen's love for their people, for each other and most especially, for their merry little band. He wondered if Leon knew his family had a deep rooted connection to magic. Or that Elyan had an affinity to any form of metal, that made him not just a blacksmith, but a true artisan. Or that Perceval's stoicism was a reaction to his size. He had an ingrained habit of being slow and gentle in all his movements, physical or otherwise merely to avoid inadvertently hurting people.

True some of those could be read by the body language of those he knew but the perception of them was so much deeper with this sight. These were read as truths not just guesses. They were embossed on the pages of their souls with the same certainty as of knowing the sun will rise in the east and set in the west. And Merlin felt humbled and privileged to be witness to them.

He could also see several good practical applications for this new skill. He could tell when they were ill or injured, (like Arthur's arm. He would have to tell him the good news that there was no break there just a really nasty sprain and bruising that would take a good few weeks to heal properly). Or if the council were telling the truth about their taxes and the state of their own finances. Or even if they had been enchanted.

Merlin had smirked to himself at that last one. The amount of love spells, alone directed at Arthur was rather remarkable. It would be good to be able to tell for sure.

The practice had not drained him in the least, unlike a constantly upheld spell might. And though a little distracting when he came across an unexpected fact about a castle resident, he was curious about how long he could hold it for. So even as the delegation arrived and the breathless servant came running, frantically looking for him. He made the decision to keep going with it. After all he believed, it could help with the proposed treaty.

…

Arthur had made the decision to greet the druids at the citadel steps as he would any visiting nobility. A clan chief, he reasoned, was a leader. Even as he recognised that the position was not hereditary, and they owned no land. The role carried the same responsibilities towards those people in their care as any duke or lord or even king.

Merlin Finally arrived at his right shoulder and Arthur gave him a mock glare. The kind that may have been real at his tardiness just weeks ago. Merlin saw through it though as his answering grin lit up his face. Arthur would swear blind that there was no smile twitching at his own or his wife's lips as he turned back, just as their guests walked through the courtyard gate.

The delegation of seven walked with a confident step despite the stares they were receiving from the population. Sir Bedivere had returned to the party figuring that two knights escorting them would create a better impression than just Sir Caradoc. And if any trouble were to arrive, the both of them could deal with it more easily.

There was after all no mistaking these people for anyone but druids. Their cloaks dyed in mainly drab earthy colours more easily obtained from the soil and pigments around them. And they held themselves with the calm, peaceful confidence of a people knowing exactly who and what they were and were entirely comfortable within their own skin.

As the members drew up in front of the king he could see the looks of awe directed at his servant and respect for himself. The man in front and the young boy in the back looked vaguely familiar, perhaps they reminded him of someone already in Camelot. It came to him in a flash when the man drew to a halt and greeted him in his accented drawl. He had met this man, several years ago.

In a cave in Cenred's old kingdom just before the immortal army swept through on Morgause and Morgana's orders, decimated the population and broke his fathers's mind.

He very briefly closed his eyes, huffing out a breath in shame at his actions back then, knowing that no amount of stress or worry should have ever resulted in threatening an innocent child.

"Arthur Pendragon. We thank you for this invitation, and the opportunities it may bring to both our peoples." Arthur's eyes snapped back open. The man was gracious and his words held nary a hint of the kings past misdemeanours.

"And we in turn welcome you to Camelot Chief Iseldir. I hope in time this can be seen as the first step upon the road to peace and prosperity for all." The man inclined his head in a show of esteem as Arthur gestured to fist his wife and then his friend. "My wife Guinevere."

"We had heard the king had married for love my lady but we had not heard of your rare beauty." Gwaine at Gwen's side gave a hastily muffled snort. It was a courtly piece of flummery he may have used upon the unsuspecting female population if they indeed had been unsuspecting. Gwen elbowed him hard but discreetly as she stepped forward to be greeted properly with a regal smile.

Here Arthur paused. The council members were waiting to be introduced next as per protocol. However they were in for a shock as he waved his servant forward. There was more than one harsh intake of breath and mewl of protest. Arthur ignored them, there were after all advantages to being king and able to sometimes throw caution to the winds and do as he damn well pleased.

"I believe you already know Merlin?" Iseldir's eyebrow had climbed to his hairline. Arthur had all but shouted his admiration of the dark haired man with the gesture. Merlin came forward with only the slightest hesitation, sizing the lord's reactions up out of the corner of his eye.

"Iseldir it's good to see you again." Hmm if Arthur wished to show Merlin's importance to his nobles with such a demonstration perhaps he should help the man along.

"My Lord Emrys." Whereas he had only inclined his head to Arthur, one equal to another, now he gave proper obeisance to the lord of magic's son and bowed deeply from the waist. Merlin's eyes widened slightly his new sight ending abruptly with his surprise and there were several gasps and subdued chattering broke out amongst the council members and other lords of the court. Merlin turned his head swiftly to find Arthur's reaction thinking he might be surprised at the very least. Only to be confronted with Arthur's smug grin. He knew this would happen the utter prat. Merlin's cheeks heated as he turned back to the chief and muttered that the bowing really wasn't necessary whilst lifting the man up.

The introductions continued in a much more normal vein after that the court and Iseldir's companions being named by turns. When it came to the young man at the back he again reared his head in astonishment. Mordred here? Khilgarrah had told him at the start he would have a hand in Arthur's death, though he had also told him he would unite with Morgana in evil. Could it be that the path they had been travelling had shifted sufficiently to change his destiny? He snapped his sight back and his breath hitched at his aura. An almost completely gold thread, tinged with the tiniest hint of a purple so deep it was almost black, stared at him. He could see Mordred's conflict with his clan members. See his debate at Emry's inexplicable persecution and see his Dragonlord heritage sparkling, deep though it was buried. It shook him. Amaethon knew. This was what Frige and her husband had meant. Morgana and Mordred would still be allies of a sort. Though the connection would be entirely different, and bring so much joy rather than heartache.

He was so preoccupied he failed to notice that George had been assigned to show the guests to their rooms rather than himself, only coming out of his stupor when Arthur shook his arm slightly to gain his attention. At Merlin's enquiring look Arthur gestured for him to accompany the royals back inside noting the guests had gone and he had been holding up the lines of people wishing to leave the courtyard. He moved to walk behind his friends with a red face, trying valiantly to ignore the muttering that followed.

Oh gods Arthur had to be informed and Mordred given the choice of whether to take up such a heritage. Iseldir would need to be consulted too since Mordred was merely a child. A pounding headache started to pulse steadily behind his eyes at the task now set before him though he couldn't help but feel hopeful for the future that now seemed to glow it looked so bright.

…..

Gwaine snorted again as he made off down the corridor to his chambers. It would be all over the citadel by evening that Merlin had been called a lord right in front of the king no less and no-one least of all the king had refuted it. Gwaine shook his head. Just how much bowing and scraping and gossip would his friend now have to endure when he went to the kitchens? Would they even allow him in the door? He chuckled to himself. Merlin had seemed very preoccupied. So much so that he never even realised his days as merely the king's servant with a modicum of talent in magic were now very definitely numbered!

He couldn't have planned this better himself! Humming a mad, rude and exceptionally annoying tavern song as he made his way with a grin and a wildly swinging gait all the way back to his room.


	55. Chapter 54 The peacemaker

**A/N This was not where I saw this going but my Characters were once again being stubborn. I actually like it though but just a warning, if the rest doesn't fall into place the way I want it to it will be edited to give a better flow. Let me know what you all think please?**

**...**

Chapter 54 The peacemaker.

Well Arthur thought. That had gone better than they could have hoped. No matter that his council were now acting like spurned lovers and gossiping spitefully amongst themselves. He couldn't help but let out a smirk Morgana would have been proud of at their reaction. Lord Emrys indeed!

Iseldir couldn't have done a better job of showing the men, Merlin's importance and real status if Arthur had taken him aside and coached him in his intentions and his actions. He had known by talking to Gaius and Khilgarrah before he left. That Merlin was held in great esteem by the druid community. Mari's reaction had told him yet more. But until he had seen the deepest bow of reverence reserved only for Merlin he had held no notion of just how much awe and respect the name of Emrys commanded. He had only garnered a nod. Perfectly respectful as a greeting between equals. That mark of obeisance however, that showed where he was placed in their loyalty.

It was humbling to realise that if Merlin had not placed such faith in him, had not believed he was worth fighting for, he could so easily have raised an army of magic users and razed this city to the ground with very little effort. But Merlin had stayed, had believed, had done everything humanly possible to make him see the true worth of magic even as Arthur made his task all but impossible. Had lobbed goblets at his head and called him useless. There would be no more. Ignorance would be no excuse. This was his kingdom now and he would lead it his way, and hope that it was a better one.

The fact that Merlin was still willing to serve Arthur in any capacity the sovereign asked of him would go a very long way toward cementing Merlin's place at Arthur's side and in his affections. They would grumble less at Merlin staying, magic or no if he were recognised as the nobility he was. He grimaced internally at the arguments some of his councillors still held regarding his friend. They seemed more inclined to hate him for his influence rather than the magic he wielded. His untrustworthiness stemming from his being a servant, as if status ever granted a man purity of spirit merely for being born into wealth and privilege. If only.

Oftentimes Arthur had found the opposite to be true. He had been proof enough of that until Merlin had landed quite ungracefully in his life. And Arthur could not be more glad.

He had been a brat.

Uther had loved this kingdom and yes he had passed that quality to his son. But it had been an abstract one. The people had held no importance for him other than being a means to an end. Providers of his comforts but of less significance than his horses or his hounds and with no real right to anything unless he saw fit. It was power without direction and just as dangerous as uncontrolled magic. Possibly more so since you could see the results of magic gone wild. The symptoms of poor decisions in a ruler could be far reaching and all but invisible to the one making the rules. The laws on magic being a case in point. As soon as Merlin had rather foolishly but bravely stood up for the rights of a lowly serving boy, even as Arthur mocked him for it, Merlin had been effecting change. No-one had ever stood before him in such a manner before, and it had made a deeply buried sense of honour he had long thought vanished raise up and take notice.

His council had asked him even as they condemned his friend, why? Why all this for one man. He had told them in no uncertain terms it was not. Merlin had made him see it was not. It never could be.

This was for his kingdom. For Bedivere and Caradoc's aunt. For the girl Morgana could have been or even for that matter Morgause. For the people he didn't know, never would know. Who lived every day under the sword of Damocles waiting for it to fall and knowing there was nothing that could be said in their defence even for existing. Since by his father's laws there was no defence. Those who would heal and those who would harm treated just the same. It was no justice. His council had seemed stunned into silence. He had yet another thing to thank Merlin for. He had found a way to make his advisors shut up and for once realise that he was not in fact a younger version of his father.

And now he was on the brink of something huge and realised he was also doing this for the druids. For a way of life that was a mystery but from everything he had seen, a peaceful one. And for Mordred.

Arthur had remembered the pale boy he had rescued, of course he had. He could not forget the times he had actively defied his father. Especially when lives were at stake.

The gangly seven year old now grown. His pale skin, turquoise blue eyes and dark hair reminding him rather forcefully of his friend. They could almost have been brothers so strong was the resemblance. His effusive greeting of the young man had been followed by a beaming smile that he had known him enough to remember his name. He had promised they would talk later, he wished to know what had happened to the lad he had rescued so long ago. Here, he thought was something good that had come. Something that could be continued and made better.

His reaction to being here had been curious. He had been genuinely glad to see Arthur and Gwen, had asked after Gaius and carefully avoided any mention of Morgana. But when it came to Merlin, who he thought would have garnered the most feeling he had been shy and reticent. Hesitating in greeting him and looking enquiries at him even as Merlin had stared at him in undisguised shock.

It was if Merlin had been looking at a ghost come to haunt him. He had not noticed when Arthur had given the care of the party to George. (An action, that in the past, would have earned him a glare. And a severely sarcastic and angry question, of whether Arthur thought him incompetent and incapable.)

Nor had he registered the looks of almost disappointment on Mordred's face as he looked back time and again as he was led gently but firmly back inside the castle. It was only as Arthur had shaken his arm, indicating the irritated and muttering councillors being held up that Merlin had shaken himself from his distraction. He had followed silently all the way to the royal chambers, and it scared the monarch. Merlin was never silent. Just what had he seen that commanded his attention so thoroughly.

Something was wrong and he needed to know what the hell he was dealing with.

…..

Merlin barely registered that they were back in the king's chambers until Gwen made him sit in the comfy padded chair in front of the fireplace reserved for Gwen's stitching frenzies. He was in shock he realised. Mordred of all people?

It made sense he knew. Amaethon had said that the new Dragonlord's would be ones with magic. He had believed they were here already, that he would find one of the citizens with a secret heritage and scare them witless at their own potential. He **had** entertained the possibility that one of the druids approaching might have it but never in a million years would he have guessed that **Mordred** would be one of the party. Or that he would be the one the gods had picked out to be first in the new order. And he **had** been picked there was no doubt in Merlin's mind of that.

He could tell this was important somehow. That he needed to convince the boy to become a Dragonlord. That the gods expected it. It was why they had made such a point of showing him **now**. He had to make the connection with Zoelphis.

"What happened Merlin? Everything was fine and then you zoned out on us." The soft tone the king now used with him whenever something serious came up lately had been unheard of before he was cursed. It was a sign of his friendship. Never voiced publicly, until he had been forcefully shown the depths of his loyalty. Now it was in every action. Every word. Every breath.

"I'm fine. Really." Arthur's sceptical expression flitted briefly across his face prompting Merlin to protest. "It's just I saw something I was not expecting. But it's good. It's really good." Gwen's curiosity was aroused and her earnestly enquiring glance just made Merlin want to babble the whole of it out in a rush. "When Mordred first came, he was the first to call me Emrys. I had no clue what he was talking about so I went and asked Khilgarrah. He told me I would have many names, but he also warned me about him. Told me he would unite with Morgana in evil and have a hand in your death." Gwen gasped. How was **that** considered good? "It was why I was hesitant to help him escape." Shame coloured Merlin's tone. "But he was just a boy and I couldn't **not** save him. It seems that was the gods plan all along. They…Arthur his destiny has been changed. He **can't** unite in evil with Morgana because she isn't Morgana any more. But…there must be some reason he has to be connected with her. They wouldn't have done this otherwise!"

"What are you saying? What have they done?"

"Arggghh. Why is it so hard to explain anything?" Arthur was at a loss. Thoroughly confused. Sharing a glance with Gwen merely confirmed that she couldn't work out what this was all about either. Merlin's hands were in his hair again. "All right. All right! Mordred has the Dragonlord potential!" He looked up to find Arthur and Gwen both just gaping at the outburst. A full minute passed in silence before Merlin all but growled in frustration. "This is what Amaethon meant. This is why he showed me how to identify them **now**. He must have known he would come. And if he took the trouble to point him out, he **has** to be important somehow. There has to be more to him having the connection than just your death. And since Amaethon and Frige would **never** see harm come to me it has to be a good change!" They still looked blank.

"Wait. What? Why…how could you be so certain the gods don't want to harm you? And for that matter how would it?" Ah. For Gwen to pick up on just that little tidbit was unfortunate.

"Oh hell!" It was said quietly but no less vehement.

"Merlin? I need to know just what you mean." The warning in Arthur's voice was clear. Merlin was stuck, between a rock and a very hard place. Arthur had become just too observant and would take very badly to yet another lie. He had survived seven years of never giving anything away. Even his secret had never been divulged willingly. And yet in the past two weeks his mouth had run off more times and given way to so many revelations it was frightening. Had he become so comfortable that he was becoming complacent? Or just his friends finally realising there was so much more to him and finally taking notice. Either way it was uncomfortable. And that was just the mild description.

"You don't think you're death would kill **me?** If you die I fade. They saw it and a god's power of foresight is unrivalled. And I can't! I have to stay. I have a task beyond being your protector. I'm needed. But if you die I lose myself." Merlin's prayer that Arthur would take what he had been given and leave it at that proved unfulfilled.

It was fine as explanations went, even flattering to know he was so loved by his brother. But it didn't answer the question fully, and Arthur had a fair idea that this was what had been bothering his friend since the battle. He looked at him, really looked. And saw the strain and pain, fear, joy, and hope. Such shining hope. The confusing mix not helping him make sense of anything. If there was a potential Dragonlord running around with a destiny that would see him dead it was of concern to the kingdom and Merlin had promised. Anything to do with his realm's safety he had to know.

"Merlin why are you so sure of their motives?" It was said quietly with Arthur kneeling in front of the chair Head lower than Merlin's for once. Earnestly trying to understand, the answer when it came was even more faint. Barely even a whisper. But it explained so much. It explained everything.

"Because…according to them…I'm their son."


	56. Chapter 55 Destined for?

**A/N Ok Monster chapter. Well over 3000 words I swear these are getting bigger. I'm not feeding them too much, promise. And I know I've said it before but there really isn't much left to write now. **

…..

Chapter 55 Destined for?

Silence.

For minutes at a time.

Merlin sat unmoving, head bowed. Not looking at anyone. Indeed his eyes were shut and if not for his uncomfortable looking posture and his rapidly panting breaths as if he had run a mile he seemed as if asleep.

Gwen sat rigid on the bed eyes turned to the wall, hand to her mouth, other twisting the fine silk of her dress into tight knots. Tears tracking down her flushed cheeks.

And Arthur. Arthur who had reared back and looked at his brother as if he had never seen him before. Arthur who had sat on his heels no thoughts able to come forth from the chaos in his mind. Arthur who even now stared stupidly, mouth working but no sound emerging.

"But Hunith….?"

"Is still my mother."

"Then how…?" A weary sigh full of resignation. Arthur wondered if he would ever have been told if it had not been forced from him.

"They chose me…because of my father's…Balinor's connection to magic. Dragons are made of magic and a dragonlord's soul is linked to theirs. It makes them part magic themselves…made **me** part magic for all that the link was not awake. They needed that link. Before I was born they fused a part of their souls and mine. They had to, so I could do what I need to…what they created me for…what our shared destiny is leading me to." Arthur couldn't speak, But Merlin could still see the questions in his eyes. "I…I'm to be the guardian of Albion. The Albion you will unite and make whole. I will be its caretaker and that of the magical balance that both takes life and gives it. Keep it running, keep it safe."

"But that could take years! And what happens when we're dead and gone, do you gift your power to someone else? Do they? What if they can't find anyone?" Merlin just gave him a gentle smile, sorrow starkly apparent. Beads of moisture gathering suspiciously on his lashes. No! The truth was there for anyone with eyes to see. There would be no one else because there didn't **need** to be. And though Merlin still looked more than slightly terrified at the prospect, he also held a spark of interest. His nature was one of curiosity, always asking the awkward questions that no-one ever seemed to hold the answers to. Well now he had time enough to learn. And gain firsthand knowledge of how this land would grow even beyond the reign of Arthur Pendragon. Once and future king. It allowed Arthur to step back from the ache he felt for his friend.

"Don't tell anyone else please? They could never understand and I don't want their pity. I'll be fine. I was made for this. They interfered so I could have the time to grow into my role to give me the least amount of pain. They would never harm me because they did all this to spare me the grief of losing you too soon."

"You…You're a braver man than I **ever** gave you credit for." The gathered tears did fall then. As Gwen, fascinated by the whole conversation, even as she felt terrible that such a burden had to land on anyone's shoulders let alone Merlin's came and gave him a hug. No words necessary. Saying in silent communication that no matter what, who, where, when or why. Merlin was hers and Arthur's. And there was nothing on earth or even in this case above it, below it, or even around it that could tear him from their hearts.

"Aren't you even a little angry they gave this to you without asking if you minded living so long? That your life has already been decided?"

"Where would be the point? I can't change how I was born any more than you can. Did you ask to be a king? We were both given a task by the manner of our birth just as any man is. We just have to work out how we wish to achieve it. I told you that once before. It's no less true now."

"It was no book was it, It was your life." It was no question, Merlin could tell it was merely a statement of fact. But he nodded anyway. What else was there to do but agree.

…..

The pyres were lit at sunset. The whole of Camelot, stood lining the walls and creating a circle of people five deep.

The families of those fallen, reverently held at the front of the crowds. King Odin had been escorted out to the funerals by Arthur himself after a tense interview.

It had been very uncomfortable for both monarchs, not least of which because Arthur was very distracted, still coming to terms with his friends revelation. Odin had several times looked at Arthur as if he couldn't fathom just what manner of creature he was. And just as dealing with any unknown and possibly feral being, he was wary, hesitant, and reluctant to commit himself fully lest he turn around and bite him.

It made for very stilted conversation, especially since they had little in common besides their desire for a more peaceful kingdom. No matter. That was as much as was required for the moment. They could both tell their commitment to the truce and this show of unity for their dead would be the first step.

He stood beside Camelot's king hopefully now as a symbol that no more blood would be shed between them. That no more brave souls would be asked for the ultimate sacrifice.

The hush of the evening broken only by the snap and pop of the fires, the soft sobbing of family members and the crying of children not understanding the reverence or the need for quiet.

Merlin stood with Gaius and the other physicians helping with those wounded sufficiently healed enough to be out here to honour the fallen. The Druids stood a little way behind and to the side. Although they had not been part of this conflict, their ways owed much to the veneration of all life. It was little wonder they wished to pay their respects even to those they did not know. Particularly because they would have helped had they been given leave to do so.

A lot of the citizens gave them a wide berth, but Merlin was gratified to see more than a few hardy souls standing with them without fear. Of all magic users the people would trust and respect the druids the most. The hope for this treaty was to give access to their medical knowledge without fear of recrimination. He knew they already sought it out, now they could do so openly. And in time it would pave the way for more users to gain acceptance.

The pyres were burning low now. The sun nearly over the horizon and a deepening twilight casting long shadows across the grass. Arthur stepped out then spinning slowly in a circle to take in the sight of every person here.

"Today marks the end of an era. An end to blindness, and an end to prejudice. Tonight we remember our dead, they fought valiantly and with honour. And for their king, on both sides. And though we grieve for their passing, they give rise to a new era. One of peace between our nations. They have brought a better day. Tomorrow we shall feast to honour our fellow man, our fallen friends, but tonight, tonight we commit them to our memory and pay tribute to their sacrifice."

Merlin hadn't written **this** speech. And though he could have made it more eloquent. Longer and possibly more reverent. At that moment it didn't matter. Arthur had spoken from the heart and Merlin couldn't be prouder.

They dispersed after. Merlin made to follow Gaius and the rest of the healers, but was waved off. They had it well in hand. The wounded men surrounded by willing relatives.

Arthur had already disappeared along with Odin and the knights. It meant he had some free time. A rare occurrence nowadays. He debated going to his room, but knew he was procrastinating. He had a conversation with a certain person that needed to be soon. And putting it off would just make it all the harder. With an internal sigh he turned his feet in the direction of the chambers assigned to the druids and went in search of Mordred.

…..

Why did Emrys abhor him?

It was a question Mordred had been asking himself all afternoon. As soon as his name had been mentioned Merlin…Emrys had looked at him as if he had never seen him before and didn't want to now.

Iseldir had given him a glance filled with sympathy but that also held an emotion he couldn't distinguish properly, if he had had to give it a name he might have called it pity. He may have laughed at that not knowing what he might need to be pitied for except the clan leader had been the only one to give him anything in the way of attention at all. Even his Aunt seemed to be almost ignoring him.

What had he ever done to be so disliked?

The knock at the door was a welcome distraction when it came. Even as he knew it was probably nothing to do with himself. There was not much to do in the common area of the suite of connecting rooms the delegates had been given. They were nice enough and certainly better than a draughty tent but he was bored. Not being able to do any magic until Arthur gave them leave to do so and therefore having too much time on his hands to dwell. Anything could be considered entertainment.

And so it was a mixed feeling of both surprise and apprehension that assaulted him when none other than Emrys himself walked into the room and requested to speak to not only Iseldir but Mordred as well.

The other Druids bowed and left for their own rooms to give them a modicum of privacy, even as they burned with curiosity and kept glancing back as if to reassure themselves that yes, Emrys had indeed asked to speak to the youngest member of their party rather than they. It was obvious they found his choice of companion inexplicable. For that matter so did Mordred.

Even as they took seats on the hard wooden chairs set around the large table in the room Mordred kept studying his once idol. He knew it was rude, and he would probably have a lecture from Iseldir later on the importance of manners but Merlin was doing the same and he found it vastly uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of that penetrating stare. That look was also back in his eyes again. As if he had never yet seen anything like the creature he found before him and couldn't work out if he liked it or not.

"My lord you wished to speak to us."

"I did. Something has come to light in the days after the recent conflict that now seems to include young Mordred here."

"Me? I've been nowhere near Camelot for years! You made it perfectly clear you wanted me gone the last time I was ever in Camelot!" All the pent up frustration of being denied explanations from that time. All the hurtful reactions of everyone to just his name. All his years of anxiety not knowing why Emrys hated him so much that he wanted him dead. It all came out in those few words. Merlin couldn't seem to look at him. Possibly remembering the occasion of their last meeting, it certainly seemed so with his next statement.

"I'm sorry for what I did."

"Why? Why do you hate me so?" Iseldir glanced between the two and though he looked like he might interfere, and Mordred was even expecting it. He never opened his mouth. Perhaps sensing that this needed to be aired. Perhaps now Mordred would get the answers he craved.

"I don't hate you Mordred."

"Then why would you try to have me killed. What have I ever done to anyone." Merlin gave a weary sigh and ran his fingers trough his hair making it, if possible, even more unkempt.

"I was warned that you would play a part in Arthur's death. It had been foreseen. And though I was reluctant to acknowledge it since you were just a child, I believed the source at the time since their power of prophecy is second only to the gods themselves." Mordred sat stunned. He didn't think he could move if his life depended on it. He couldn't believe it. It wasn't true. He would never harm Arthur. The king had **saved** him, would save all of them. Why would he? But then he glanced at his mentor. And he realised they had all know of it. It was why he had never been greeted with the same care as everyone else. He had been condemned. Before he had shown any sign of wanting to do anything to Arthur other than thank him. It was why he looked at him with pity.

"Why did you let me come with you if **this** is what you think of me? That I would ever…?" He turned in his chair so he was facing away from them both. "I'll leave. I'll go back to the camp. I won't trouble you again."

"Mordred." The word was said so gently. Why would he be gentle to Arthur's supposed killer? He turned back only to find such an expression of remorse, it bled through into his speech. "I don't think we have to worry about that future anymore. The events of the last days have changed everything. Including I believe, your destiny." The rush of relief was so intense his vision went white. His heart stuttered so painfully he felt like he had run a footrace from here to the druid camp.

"I know I can't ask forgiveness for what I did when you were only a young child Mordred. I don't think there really is any defence for it. I think I was just reacting on instinct. I would hope I've grown up a bit since then. And not so easily swayed."

"Everyone always looked at me as if I had committed some heinous crime. But no-one ever explained what it was I had done. Why?"

"Destiny is a burden sometimes. It can leave you with the feeling everything you do is futile as if every choice you make is somehow mapped out already. And you can't escape. Life has a way of making it happen regardless. But it isn't quite that simple. There are always different choices to the ones you ultimately make. You just have to pick the ones you can live with preying on your conscience. And sometimes the choices you have are all terrible, will all cost you but you still need to make one because not doing anything is still a choice. I think you were never told, to spare you that. There are times I wish I didn't know mine. On the days when every decision means blood and death and pain, and losing the ones I love." Mordred could see, could count the cost of those judgements.

"So if what you say is true and my destiny is different, how? You have foresight Iseldir and you knew what I was supposedly going to do, so what's changed now?"

"The sight has been clouded for too long and this new road is too new. Not everything has resolved itself. I just don't know. But I'm certain since Emrys was the one to bring it up he has something to say on the matter."

"This is where everything goes a little nuts. I promise you I am not making this tale up and if you get lost at any point just let me know and I'll try and explain a bit better." Mordred nodded now looking apprehensive though his interest had been piqued. "I know Arthur sent you a missive giving you a few details about what's happened I also know not everything was committed to parchment."

"I had been wondering why you chose now of all times to reveal your role in Camelot." Merlin gave a mirthless laugh.

"Trust me when I say it was not my choice." Isedir and Mordred both gave him an enquiring glance. "Two gods and goddesses of the old religion stepped in to avoid a fate they did not wish to see happen. Amaethon and Frige both conspired and needless to say their actions were convoluted and rather extreme. I will not go into detail it would take far too long, though their intentions were for the good of the kingdom and for me. Morgana…Morgana is no more and in her place sits Zoelphis the hope of the dragon nation." Man and boy visibly started at that piece of information.

"I'm not entirely sure I understand you."

"Morgana's soul now resides within the youngest of all Albion's dragons." Their mouths flapped like they were on loose hinges. Though Iseldir did manage to contain his astonishment quicker than Mordred in the interests of preserving his dignity. "Amaethon has also given me a task to perform to help bring the dragon nation back fully, this is where Mordred comes in."

"Um…? What exactly am I supposed to do with dragon's?"

"Somewhere in your long line of ancestors one of your however many greats grandfathers was a Dragonlord. And you carry that potential within you. So my question is will you allow me to awaken that potential? Will you become a Dragonlord of Albion? And become a caretaker for their restoration." Mordred had never expected that. And from Iseldir's stunned but proud look neither had he.

"I know it's a lot to think about, you don't need to give me an answer straight away. You're young yet, it would be a large responsibility. One where you would have to figure out much of your gift yourself, much as I have since I am the last one at this time and there was no-one to teach me save Khilgarrah. I can awaken it any time if you want to go ahead or even ask me anything about the Dragonlord's just let me know." Merlin rose from the table, gave a nod of respect to Iseldir and exited the room, leaving its really rather amazed occupants behind. It seemed Mordred needed to make a very important decision.


	57. Chapter 56 Mordred

**A/N I did write this entire chapter. Edited it and supposedly saved it. Then my damned machine shut down for bloody windows updates and when it came back on I couldn't find the dratted thing. It has disappeared into the void of lost typing, a rather bleak place full of half finished homework, C V's and tax returns. I shall mourn its passing and post this newly typed version in the mean time. **

**Oh and just had to put that line in from 'Hollow Queen' It's just too Bamf Merlin not to. I loved that scene and so wanted Arthur to have seen it! Ha he'd know how 'useless' he was in a fight!**

…..

Chapter 56 Mordred

Mordred had brooded for most of the night after Merlin left. The euphoria of being asked to join the mysterious ranks of the Dragonlord's fading slightly with the realisation of how and why everyone had been unwelcoming. He had hardly talked to anyone, not feeling very charitable towards any of them for keeping this from him.

He had thought his fellow Druids would have been above such behaviour. Obviously not, as their actions had shown. They were hypocrites he realised. Bemoaning their treatment at the hands of those who did not know them because of an assumption of what they might do with their magic, when all the while they were doing the same to him for an assumption of future actions based on prophecy.

Merlin had come into such a category too and though the man had apologised he still felt hurt and ever so angry at his treatment. And then Mordred looked at himself and felt shame that he had done the same to Merlin, believing in the image of Emrys instead of the man. They had all done the same. Perhaps it would be better for all if prophecies were never spoken of. There would be no misunderstandings just because someone had 'seen' something.

And just what was the role of a Dragonlord? Why would they be needed for dragons to flourish? Surely they could do so on their own? All Mordred knew was that Dragonlord's somehow had a connection to the dragons that allowed their commands to be obeyed. But as to how that was to be achieved and what the link entailed he had no clue. Merlin had mentioned that the link had to be awakened and he wondered if it would hurt.

There was absolutely no doubt in Mordred's mind that he would take on the responsibility, he would be a fool to turn it down. But he would need to know the details before he did so. He would need to be prepared.

And so he had snuck out, before the others were awake, and gone in search of the warlock. It was easier said than done. He may only be a teenager, and hardly looked threatening but people still eyed his druid clothing askance, and his queries as to where he could find Merlin met with cold silence or downright hostility.

It was the latter he was faced with from the fifth time of asking from a man much better dressed than the average. His corpulent body swathed in purple linen of very fine quality and large motif embroidery of navy blue, green and white in panels down the front. His long open coat of green just brushing his black britches and boots.

"Sir I'm looking for the king's servant Merlin. Might you have seen him?" The words had hardly left the boy's mouth before the man, looking extremely surprised and angry at being addressed in such a way turned on him. He raked him with his eyes for just a moment, noting his rather tatty looking druid cloak, his expression going black.

"Begone demon spawn. I will not allow you to corrupt me. Our king may have been taken in by your false visage, but I know what you are. What that _**servant**_ is. I will execute you myself the moment you show your true colours, and the king will thank me for ridding this kingdom of such a threat." He took a step forward and Mordred recoiled stepping back as the Noble now moved forward. Until the wall stopped all progress.

"Is everything all right Mordred?" The sudden appearance of Sir Bedivere at the end of the hall put paid to whatever the noble had meant to do. The words were chilly and the knight wasn't looking at him. The noble took one last look at the druid boy and moved off down the corridor.

"Thanks."

"Did he harm you? What did he say? What are you doing out here without a guide?" Mordred knew it had been a risk to come out on his own. That Merlin's magic had not been embraced with open arms. In hindsight it was rather foolish to go wandering around without Sir Bedivere's company for protection.

"I'm fine. He said nothing I haven't heard before and I just wondered where Merlin might be."

"He'll probably be serving the king breakfast round about now. But he'll be down with Arthur for training in a bit. I'm on my way to the training field now. Care to come and watch?" Mordred's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. Men interested in taking up the sword were rare amongst such a peace loving people as the druids but they were not unheard of and Mordred had held a fascination with swordplay since two sword wielding druids had stayed with them over the winter some time ago. They had shown Mordred some of the stances and forms, since he seemed so interested and Mordred had practiced everyday in secret with a rough wooden sword he carved himself since, not even Iseldir knew this secret pastime. It would be wonderful to see how a knight trained and maybe pick up a few tips.

The field was almost empty. Many of the surviving men still recovering from injury and it was early yet. There were a couple of knights sparring at the other end of the field and an archer shooting at targets of varying heights along the wall. Two servant girls stood gossiping and giggling eyeing the knight's, and one of the squires was organising a rack of weaponry halfway along the grounds. Mordred and Bedivere were the only two at this end and the knight gave a sigh of disappointment that there was no-one to set himself against.

"Would you mind teaching me some manoeuvres whilst you wait for a partner?" The shy question startled the knight.

"Interested in learning the sword are we? I didn't think the peace loving druids would have much time for weapons work."

"Most don't, there are a few of us, not many however, that have wanted to. It's not frowned upon per se just rare."

"Alright, let's see what you've been taught then and we'll see what I can teach you."

It turned out that Mordred had a very solid if basic foundation of sword skills and Bedivere was happily teaching him more refined techniques when Arthur and Merlin strolled into the training grounds side by side, laughingly bantering with each other.

They were greeted with the sight of Mordred swinging his borrowed practice sword at the training dummy in a complicated movement and then grinning madly at finally managing one of the forms Bedivere showed him.

"You're teaching him to fight?"

"Oh he already knows how, most natural swordsman I've seen for a while, he just lacks finesse and experience. Things that will come in time. He's really good to say he's had no formal teaching, just picking bits up here and there." Arthur watched for a few moments assessing his stance and the power he put behind his blows, the boys control wasn't bad at all for a mere 14 year old. Then he smirked.

"Hey Merlin." A quick glance from the dark haired warlock had Arthur nodding over to where Mordred was still slashing away at the dummy. Oblivious to anything else except the physical exertion. "Even a teenager with hardly any training is better with a sword than you." Merlin frowned at the king and then gave him a shrug and a smirk of his own. Arthur was still bantering with him but the kings treatment had been like he was handling a delicate vase, afraid he would shatter. Which was a rather ironic if ridiculous reaction to being told he would never have to fear death, and it was getting annoying. Time to show Arthur once and for all that he didn't need the kid gloves.

"I don't need a sword." His eyes flashed and the swords and spears in the racks at his side all lifted and pointed unerringly at his king for a just moment before putting themselves back neatly.

Bedivere snorted slightly into his hand as the king muttered under his breath about showy uses of power and warlocks who were too damned cocky for their own good.

But the magic had brought Mordred's attention away from the feeling of holding a proper metal practice weapon in his hand.

To see the king watch all those weapons turn towards him held there by a force he had been taught was the epitome of corruption and merely grumble teasingly about it knowing it was not a real threat was a joy. It gave him a spark of hope.

"Mordred. Good morning."

"King Arthur, Emrys." The slight bow was a lot less than Iseldir had managed and Merlin grinned at the lack of reverence. He liked this boy even if he now seemed hesitant. "I came looking for you earlier Emrys, I wondered if you might spare me some time?"

"Merlin. And I told you it was fine if you needed to talk. Arthur do you have need of me right now?"

"No I think I can manage to beat my knights into shape without you holding my hand even with this." He gestured at the sprained arm held in a sling. "We have the treaty meetings this afternoon and the feast this evening, apart from that just get my lunch and get George to do the rest." He turned away and then turned back as if he had forgotten something. "And Gwen asked that you wear your red coat this evening. Something about foreign kings finding your attire a little shabby." Merlin looked down at his usual clothing and then up at Arthur in mock outrage. "Gwen would **never** say that, she is far too tactful. **That** is your own thoughts, but if you find my clothing offensive it's not my problem. I can't afford new clothes whenever I feel like it and you know it. That pittance you call a wage doesn't cover a lot."

"Gods give me strength, just wear the damned coat!" Merlin smirked, it was so good to rile his king. It was just too easy to get under his skin.

…..

"So. What did you want to talk about?" Merlin was under no illusions about the subject. Mordred's Dragonlord heritage was too new an idea for it to be anything else. But what he wanted to say about it was a little hard to determine.

"I'm here to say yes. I would be a fool not to. But…" Merlin could forget very easily that this boy was only 14. His self possession and confidence was that of a much older individual. He supposed it was a product of the harsh realities of a life of magic being visited on him so early. Yes Merlin's life had been no picnic but Mordred's had been so much worse. It made his own actions to the young boy even harsher. It would stay with him. That guilt, but he could try at least to make amends now. And he could guess at what he wanted.

"You want to know about the Dragonlords?" Mordred exhaled a sigh of relief that he had known what he needed. Merlin gestured and they took a seat on the grass away from the training field. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything!" Merlin laughed at the enthusiasm.

"I can't tell you everything. Merely because I don't know it." Mordred looked disappointed. "I will however tell you everything I do know, all that Khilgarrah told me. All that I have discovered for myself." He folded his legs a little more comfortably, as if preparing himself for a round of storytelling. "The power of a Dragonlord is not a power you can see as much as you can feel. It is a melding of souls my soul and khilgarrah's are brothers. I carry a piece of his and he carries mine. When I awaken that power within you and you face your first dragon you will know him all of him. From what I understand. The symbiotic relationship between us allows the dragons to know human speech and us to know theirs, they are made of magic as is their language. It is this knowledge that will allow you to command him."

"Why were humans allowed such power over them? I would think they would not submit to…well…basically slavery!"

"The one thing you should know Mordred, the most important is that it isn't slavery. It couldn't be. I may be able to command Khilgarrah, but I have only twice exerted that influence. The first, Khilgarrah had been driven insane. I did it in defence of my home and as soon as I made the connection I knew he was kin, family. The command called the connection into play and brought him back to himself, a healing in a way. The second time I did so I shouldn't have, I knew as soon as I had done it it was wrong. I have never felt so awful as then. I don't think I could command him like that again. I felt what he felt at the orders, it wrenched my soul. It isn't slavery Mordred, it is a mutual sharing. We can do it but we respect them enough not to unless it is needful. They know it. Khilgarrah has helped me so many times even when he didn't have to."

"So why are we necessary then? You said we were essential to their survival."

"The Dragons need us. They cannot hatch without us. We bring them forth when we name them. No matter how many eggs are laid they cannot be born without us."

"So I'm to be a dragon midwife then?" It was said in such a deadpan and with such a grimace of disgust that Merlin couldn't help but laugh.

"It's a little more involved than that. And the euphoria you feel at bringing one into the world is unlike anything else. The connection is so much deeper with the ones you hatch than the ones you don't. Aithusa and Zoelphis feel almost like they're my children."

"Can I meet them?"

"You'll need to once I have awoken your heritage. It is facing them that will establish your bond." Mordred's face screwed up in puzzlement.

"Did someone wake your heritage? Will it hurt?" Merlin's face fell slightly, grief welling like a tide.

"No it won't hurt. Mine only caused pain because I inherited it through the death of my father. But I felt him there with me when I faced Khilgarrah. When you do connect to a dragon you will live on in his heart and in your son's. I found that out. You will pass the gift to your sons once it's established. Your firstborn surviving son will inherit upon your death. The others will be like you, carrying the potential but not being able to access it. It is only because I'm the last one and with my unique gift of magic I can bring yours to the fore. Once I have as many as Amaethon needs I doubt I will need to do it again."

Mordred pondered for a long time, and Merlin leaned back on his elbows and basked in the spring sun while the young druid deliberated. It was peaceful. The clang of swords only just discernible above the sighing of the breeze through the grass and bushes near their resting spot.

"Can you do it now? Or do we have to be near them?" Merlin opened his eyes from where he had been resting them and sat up again.

"I think it would be a good idea if we go to the clearing I usually call Khilgarrah and do it there. Are you sure you want to do this now?"

"I think if I wait, I would get cold feet. It's a leap into the unknown for me." Merlin studied him he was nervous yes but determined. His mind firmly made up. He stood and offered his hand.

"Well what are we waiting for? Destiny has come a knocking!"


	58. Chapter 57 Ringing the change

**A/N Well this wasn't supposed to be here. I had it all written up that the dragons would have a much smaller role and this would be the last chapter before the ending, however, mersan 123 wanted dragons so** '_**here be dragons!'. **_**The end is written completely and the next is mostly done so give me a day or so and we will be finished completely sob!**

**And I still have no claim on anything to do with Merlin save a huge crush on Colin Morgan but then again who doesn't? Those eyes, aaaahhhhh! **_**Slap!**_** Pull your self together kimmiky! Fanfic to finish here, drool later!**

…**..**

Chapter 57 Ringing the change.

It wasn't quite as simple as moving off to the clearing and calling out to the dragons. Mordred was a minor. Still technically a child. As clan chief Iseldir needed to be present and give consent as did Mordred's aunt and guardian. After that it was hard to keep the other druids away. And when the delegation passed the training grounds on the way out of Camelot, Arthur and Gwaine invited themselves along. In the end there was quite a procession and it took a fair amount of persuasion not to gather more as they wended their way through the lower town.

Mordred felt self conscious and exposed at the head of the group, situated as he was between both Emrys and King Arthur. To be honest it almost felt as if he were being led to an execution his level of terror had spiked when the king had joined them. He had to firmly reel his overactive imagination back.

And everywhere they went people smiled and waved at their king, cheers sometimes making their way from the throats of the individuals. Everyone knew now that Morgana had gone. And the removal of that one woman, their biggest threat, brought a sense of overwhelming relief to the crowds.

The druids felt more at home amongst these simple folk than they ever would in the castle, and it seemed, for a while at least, as if they had been embraced along with all those who had been here to fight and defend and protect. It prompted a feeling of belonging, one he hadn't realised he had been missing. These people could see what he was and hadn't turned on him or sneered like the nobleman this morning. And perhaps he could see a little more clearly the Camelot that Merlin had always seen. The one that screamed that the common people had as much if not more worth in the eyes of Arthur than that pompous cretin who had cornered him in the hall.

This was what Merlin had been striving for all those years. Maybe it was time to let his grudges go and learn to forgive.

As they left the city behind and made their way to a large grassy clearing, his nerves shot up a notch and his steps slowed. Not sure he could continue.

"We don't have to do this now if you're not ready."

"I'm fine. I'm just a tiny bit nervous."

"Shall I call them first? You could meet them, talk to them. See if you want to continue today or leave it for a while."

"No I'll do this today I just…It would be nice to meet them first."

"Fair enough. Ready?" Mordred merely nodded fascinated with the whole thing.

"_**O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!" **_It was loud and primal and resonated somewhere deep within the druid boy. As if he should know this. And he did didn't he it was written in his bloodlines.

Arthur's face was a spectacle and the druids not much better. Even they had not seen this in so long if ever. Iseldir had told him last night long after merlin had gone that the Dragonlord's had always been a secretive people. Coming from the druids who were almost paranoid in their own efforts to keep outsiders out it was a testament to just how much they had lost when they had all been killed. It had made his decision all the easier in his eyes. This was something they could not afford to lose and to be the first of the new order. Well. It was an honour.

And when they came. Winging their way from the distant hills, white and red and bronze, it was like seeing the raising of all their hope. Freedom taken flight.

Khilgarrah was wise and gruff and reluctant with his words. And what little he did say was cryptic and frustrating. Merlin had a wry look on his face whilst he explained Mordred's heritage, as though it were expected, and Mordred wondered if all his dealings with the dragon had been the same. He awed him and made him feel small and insignificant until he looked him directly in the eyes. Head snaking down majestically from the long neck as if bestowing a great honour. "There was a time past young warlock that I would have cautioned against such as you, but perhaps I have done you a disservice." A muffled snort from Merlin pulled him reluctantly away from the hypnotic eyes. Feeling unaccountably hurt until Merlin whispered conspiratorially at him.

"He calls me young warlock too. I think he likes you."

"Is that what it is? If so I think I will avoid his bad side."

Aithusa and Zoelphis were playful, bounding like puppies around the feet of the gathered Druids. Chasing each other, nipping and screeching and getting in the way. It drew reluctant smiles from the normally stoic people as they danced out of the way of thrashing tails and playfully snapping teeth. Merlin growled a few words and they both stopped their game. Turning to greet him properly as if they were the children of nobles told to be on their best behaviour for important visitors. It made him laugh and the sound seemed to fascinate them enough to overcome their reluctance and bound up to him curling round his legs. Zoelphis even went so far as to fly up to land on his shoulder. Small as she was, she carried quite a bit of weight and it overbalanced him enough to make him stumble to the side slightly. Dislodging his passenger and making her screech at him in reproach. They all laughed at those antics and when the time came for Merlin to lay his hands on his shoulders and unlock his power the clearing held an almost festival atmosphere, his nerves completely gone.

Merlin was right it hadn't hurt exactly but there had been a feeling almost of pressure, as if some kind of blockage had occurred in the flow of his magic and the stream had built it up until it had just burst within him and the current left a tingling in it's wake as it settled back down. A tickling sensation that didn't ease, just stayed annoyingly distant even as he tried to grasp it. But Merlin was there again telling him to reach for it and find the voice he now shared with the dragons and to call for them as kin. And his own voice rumbled out without conscious thought in a steady stream of guttural words he somehow knew the meaning to and a flood of emotions almost floored him.

Looking up and around he saw all three dragons looking on rapt and there was Khilgarrah bowing to him with a gleam in his eye and he realised the emotions belonged mainly to this magnificent beast, with faint threads from the younger dragons intertwined. It was heady and overwhelming, but it also felt like home.

…..

There were too many distractions lately.

Matters of state kept being put aside by a king too caught up in a world of wonder he never thought he would ever get to experience. Thank goodness for his wife or nothing would get done. Though he reluctantly admitted that what he had witnessed this morning was important. They had a new Dragonlord and it had been an eye opening experience.

It would hopefully be one of the things they could discuss for the treaty. An exchange perhaps. Mordred be fostered here in Camelot and sir Bedivere at the druid camp. So they might both learn. He had to laugh at himself, though it was tinged with a certain amount of sadness. His father would be turning in his grave. Magic and dragons and druids. He had lied to himself for so long it had bled into every waking moment and turned an entire kingdom into a mire. One he was now having to sort out, but not singlehandedly. Not any more. There were good people here he could rely on completely and now there was the possibility of more.

It would be a lifetimes worth of work to undo the harm caused by his family. But it would be worth it. And after he was gone he would be leaving the legacy in good hands, loathe though he would be to leave him behind, it was inevitable. He was mortal and Merlin was not. He could however make sure that every second he had with him counted, that their friendship would never be forgotten.

And it would start today. Merlin may wish to keep working as his servant, and that was fine they would work round it, since he knew he was stubborn enough to insist. Just another quirk Merlin would be known for, but he needed him as his advisor as well. To lead his new council with his wife, help him revise those archaic and life destroying laws and to forge the links that would lead this kingdom to where it needed to be. And to do that the whole kingdom had to see just who they would be dealing with, needed to respect him as a man of power in his own right not just a servant with a bit of magical skill. He had given him a choice about taking up his noble heritage, and he felt guilt that it seemed the choice was now out of their hands. Named Lord Emrys by the druids, before the whole court, even if his Dragonlord nobility hadn't been aired.

Odin and his entourage, along with his own Lords might be in for a bit of a shock.

…..

The red coat and the neck scarf of soft grey linen laid carefully out on his bed, had been Arthur and Gwen's gift for his part in reclaiming Camelot. Something he could wear to the coronation since he was attending as a friend and not just a servant. And not just a gift of clothing to a retainer of long standing since this coat was of quilted velvet made by Gwen herself in the run up to her coronation in the week after her simple and hasty wedding.

Given even more meaning by Arthur's sanction and his presentation of it flying in the face of the sumptuary laws and giving the whole castle palpitations when he was seen wearing it for the first time. It had been one of the happiest moments of Merlin's life and Gaius had been beaming.

And now he was to don it again. In the absolute knowledge that he had full right to wear it. He was not the bastard son of a peasant. And it would be rather nice to be able to show that even if secretly, wondering if a day would ever come when he would be comfortable enough to spill this far more personal revelation to anyone outside of his small circle of close friends. He grinned to himself. It would probably happen on the same day Gwaine decided to tell them **he** was a noble by blood.

…..

Odin was not sure what he was expecting of the treaty talks, from everything he had thusly seen this whole kingdom was mad and there was obviously more going on than he had first thought. There were druids in Camelot. A sight he had not thought possible whilst a Pendragon held the throne, for even if Morgana's bid had been a successful one he was rather sure the peace loving druids would have shunned her need for revenge on the citizens. And Uther? Well they would have burned with Uther.

But here they were and seemed if anything to be welcomed by the kings inner circle and the ordinary people if the little gathering in the courtyard earlier were to be believed. The king, one of his knights that servant and the druids had all just returned from somewhere as he glanced out of his tiny window and it had been an intriguing sight. That servant the king and a young druid were deep in conversation whilst the knight had been surrounded by the others. All talking animatedly. The citizens crowding round them all with small smiles. It was confusing especially when they all turned and bowed in the direction of the king and then walked up the stairs as if they were honoured guests.

What was going on? Despite the kings servant having magic he hadn't lifted the ban so why? And how would Uther's hated son have been able to persuade them? He had been trying for an alliance for years with little success in spite of offering large sums for their brightest magical pupils to become members of his own court. What had Arthur offered?

Perhaps he would get his answer this afternoon. At the treaty meeting and signing. And if there were druids, well then Arthur could hardly ask him not to bring his own sorcerers.


	59. Chapter 58 Fierceness and feasting

**A/N This is it last chapter before the ending and my goodness it was hard. I'd already written the end you see and have to juggle this to get it to fit and make sense. I hope you like and the end will be up today too so thats it! Over and done and i'm a little sad to be leaving it behind but i have more stories up my sleeve never fear. Please review it would mean a lot to know if i've managed what I set out to do and entertain you all.**

**Merlin still doesn't know who i am let alone belong to me.**

**...**

Chapter 58 Fierceness and feasting.

There had been no demure over his request to his sorcerers accompanying him to the meeting, merely an arch of the king's eyebrow and a quick order for them to be brought to the council room.

Odin, Arthur, and a couple of guards from both sides were the only ones present at this moment and Odin could not pass on the opportunity to gather some intelligence.

"So where is your ever present shadow Arthur? He's not serving today? He gestured with his half full goblet at the two girls carefully arranging the drinks and paperwork along the table.

"Merlin? Oh he'll be here shortly."

"Is that what his name is? I had wondered. He hardly ever spoke in my presence." That knight had told him it but he had forgotten in the disbelief of being dismissed by a servant. A muffled snort sounded from the king at his side and Odin wondered at it.

"Would you teach me the trick of keeping him silent then? He never shut's up when I want him to." It was said with a degree of fondness normally reserved for family. Just what type of hold did this boy have?

"You have an...unusual bond."

"I suppose you could say that." The door opened as the conversation lapsed and the raven haired servant put his head round the door. The king lit up with a smirk.

"Your late!"

"Aren't I always?" Arthur just shook his head at him as he made his way across to them. Gone was the scraggly serving boy and in his place was a young nobleman. The unusual combination of long quilted crimson velvet coat and Grey linen scarf at his neck, suited him.

"Odin I'd like you to meet Merlin Emrys my servant, advisor, brother." The man frowned at Arthur minutely and then turned back with a slight shrug to the other king and bowed slightly.

"So you have magic?" Merlin smiled slightly, polite.

"I do."

"So what made you choose Camelot of all places?" Merlin laughed suddenly, looking at Arthur as well as Odin.

"Would you believe my mother sent me, thinking it safer than the village I grew up in." Odin just looked on incredulous. As he turned and said in a soft voice as an aside to the king.

"Since when has Emrys been my surname?"

"Well unless you want me to give them your other name. Your real surname?"

"As if that's any better! Do you want me to sound pretentious? Why can't you just call me Merlin? That's the only name I had for seventeen years before I came here and discovered them all." And wasn't that a curious thing, just how many names could a servant have after all? And Emrys? He'd heard that name before somewhere, he was sure of it.

"Merlin!" It was more exasperation than anything else and Odin could see why he had called him brother. They bickered like siblings. And yet he **served** Arthur, used his **magic** for Arthur. Truly this was a very strange court indeed.

The door opened after a brief knock and there were his sorcerers looking a little ill at ease to have been brought here with an armed escort.

"King Arthur. These are some of my court sorcerers Cadon, Aelfric and Berne and this is…"Another knock signalled the arrival of the Druid delegation. The Lords and knights close on their heels. Cutting of the introductions he would have made.

The sorcerers startled at the sight of the druids moving freely within the citadel. And though the druids also seemed surprised they didn't let it show much.

Iseldir recovering his usual aplomb very quickly in fact as he made his way over to bow before Odin, Arthur and Merlin. "My lords."

"Isedir."

"Odin may I present Iseldir the clan chief of the druid encampment in the darkling woods."

"King Odin." Again the bow was perfectly respectable between equals but the one he had given to Merlin and Arthur had been much deeper. As that of a vassal to king. It made Odin wonder yet again what Arthur had offered. It must be a weighty thing indeed for them to give him such respect.

Everyone else had taken their seats or found a position to stand along the walls. Odin's sorcerers stood behind their lords chair, nervous but attentive. The king was unsurprised to note that Merlin took the seat at Arthur's right, Mutterings from the lord's ranged around the table not withstanding.

The boy didn't look entirely comfortable but was masking it well. Interesting. Arthur stood to open the meeting and he shifted his attention away from this intriguing young man.

"We are gathered here today that we might bring about a better time for all our people. To end the feud's that have prevented us from achieving true peace. To begin to put to rest our mistakes and past grievances that the bloodshed might finally end.

For King Odin of Cornwall and for the druids as a people I table the notion of a truce and binding peace treaty that all may benefit. My Lord Odin will you take the floor?"

"I have watched you Arthur over these last days and I must admit that my impression of you was not the reality. You have an unusual court here and I will see how it develops. But I must admit to feeling a little more hope for us all, because of it. Your father and I never could see eye to eye but I may just have found an ally in you."

It was cautious and diplomatic but just as with Annis there was a light of faith in his visage that gave Merlin a sense of destiny just as it had on the cliffs above Annis's troops. And then Iseldir was motioned to stand and the sense became stronger still. Almost overwhelming in it's intensity.

"There were great wrongs done during these last years. Lives lost that should never have been. But we have never stopped trusting in the bright future we knew someday would come. We just did not expect it would be so soon. We are grateful for the chance for our people to finally live in the peace we have longed for. In the life you have given back. I would work with you to build your kingdom Arthur Pendragon Once and future king and my lord Emrys. It would be an honour to see the world you make anew." The bow was as before deep and reverent and made Odin's sorcerers gasp. Those titles? He knew them. Had grown up hearing them as a child marvelling in the tales. He had almost forgotten them. But now he knew exactly why the druids had allied themselves with this man. And he stared at Merlin, such power locked inside such a small frame. The man's cheeks were burning and looking around he could see why. Every eye seemed to be fixed on him and Arthur.

"I thank you Iseldir for the chance to prove myself to you all. We have been blinded for a long time. Your support whilst I try and right the wrongs done you means a great deal." Arthurs eyes removed themselves from the druid chief and he sat gracefully as Arthur rose once again.

"Know this gentlemen. What we start here today will bring about a change to my fathers laws concerning sorcery. Our eventual goal is to completely revoke the ban. But there must be measures in place to prevent the horrors we have witnessed these last years. Right now I repeal the blanketed death sentence for the use of magic. I will look at individual cases in light of this but any acts of treason or harm caused by the misuse of the practice shall still hold the same weight as those caused without magic. Any person wishing to use their magic at this time can apply for the license to do so, until such a time when these measures are no longer necessary."

There was a spontaneous round of cheering from the knights and though it wasn't the full revoke they were working towards, there would be no more death for just possessing magic. It was the first steps down the road to it.

The rest of the meeting passed swiftly touching on the conditions of the treaties. The trade agreements and details of what help would be available between the nations in times of strife. There was one stipulation that surprised Odin even more than their identities. That Arthur's knight Sir Bedivere would be going to the druids to train his magical gift, and the young druid boy sat at the side of the clan chief would be fostered within Camelot's walls and be trained as a knight.

It made him question everything he had ever known about Arthur Pendragon and made him think there was much more to the man than he had ever thought even whilst he had been preaching peace in his cell.

It made him think perhaps, just perhaps, somewhere down that long road he was slowly paving to the future, they might possibly become more than just allies. Perhaps even friends.

….…..

It was an unusual feeling to be seated at a feast rather than serving at it. Not unpleasant either just not as entertaining as he had always thought it would be.

It was easier to see things from the side of the room whilst holding a jug of wine than it was sat on the right side of the kings table. And the stares were more than a little disconcerting.

The servant's either smiled in genuine pleasure that yet another of their own had managed such a feat or glared at him with jealousy dancing in their eyes. Oh if only they would trade places he might be glad of it. He missed his anonymity. He hadn't thought he would. That his life of shadows finally falling away would make him happy, and it did, ecstatically so. But it came with a price, a cost of a certain amount of privacy and he had to learn to live with it because he wouldn't give it up.

A life of magic played out in public view, because the small acts, the everyday things would convince them more than the showy heroics. Anyone could act out the part of a valiant defender for one performance designed only to gain false trust. But to live, day in day out with everyone's eyes following him, watching his every move as proof of his intentions, that was what would sway them. Arthur knew this, it had taken him a little longer to see. Hadn't fallen into place until Arthur had asked him to wear the coat, and then decided to foster Mordred here at the court as a squire. The final nail had been Arthur's suggestion for Sir Bedivere's training.

It seemed he would just have to get used to the lifestyle of a courtier on occasion. And perhaps someday he would give up his servants garb completely. He smiled to himself. He had to admit it wasn't entirely objectionable. Like everything else it would just take some getting used to.

Gwaine kept trying to make him drink more, ignoring the glares Merlin kept sending his way as he covered the top of his goblet to prevent the overeager serving boy from refilling it yet again. Wine was not a good mix with magic. More potent than then the cider or small beer he was used to, on the very rare occasions he was ever persuaded to go to the tavern with the knights. And he got headaches from wine.

Despite his best efforts, only sticking with one goblet and sipping it very slowly he still became tipsy, so when he noticed the room wavering slightly as if in a heat haze he had to call it a night.

Arthur noticed of course, laughing at his attempt to get up, motioning to Gwaine to help him back to his room.

"Lightweight!" It was said with such affection and humour and Merlin decided right here right now, it didn't matter how long he had left with them they would never leave him so long as he carried such memories. Not even the big things, just this, these small pockets of domesticity and true friendship. And he grinned one just as bright and full of hope as when he first arrived in Camelot, and then laughed at himself as his feet refused to obey him properly, giving a tiny stumble against Gwaine's chest.

"Next time I come to a feast I'm drinking water." He was slurring slightly and he hoped fervently that no-one saw his vaguely inebriated state since he had no wish to embarrass himself at his first state function.

The journey from the great hall to Gaius's tower went fairly well his feet only tripping him a half dozen times, Gwaine always there with his arm around the warlock's shoulders and then it came to those stairs to the tower itself and Gwaine's grip strengthened reminding him forcefully of the start of all this those weeks ago. He couldn't help but giggle at how it had turned out.

"Who'd have thought it'd come to this." Gwaine eyed him up. At his happy profile and his eyes that seemed to have regained that light of hope he'd been missing.

"Yeah. Wonder what it might have been like if Morgana hadn't flung that spell at you."

"I don't think I want to think about it." The candle on his bedside flared with a flash of his golden eyes and Gwaine marvelled yet again at such a compact body as his skinny friend holding such a secret.

"I'm glad you're happy Merlin. If any of us deserve it it's you." The grin flashed again as he was lowered down on the bed. His small room was ready for the night, merlin fumbling with his laces on the coat and his scarf. Such finery should be treated with care. Gwaine just muttered a small curse and took over helping him out of it.

"Thanks Gwaine."

"Anytime Merlin my friend. We will always help if you let us." Merlin didn't see him leave, already gone in an alcohol induced doze. Nor did he see the shadows shift and the gentle hand of his recently discovered mother, stroking down his cheek.

"Come see me tomorrow Emrys when your guests take their leave." And Merlin shifted in his sleep breathing out an affirmative.


	60. Chapter 59 Ending and epilogue

**A/N You will probably wish to kill me round about now. But this was where it was going all along. It just needed to give them all a bit of a nicer ending is all. Now Arthur is surrounded by friends and has seen the product of his labours and well you get the picture.**

**I love you guys. Thankyou for reading and staying with me. For all the reviews and favourites and i hope it meets your expectations. **

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Chapter 58 At the end of it all.

They stood on the battlements. Merlin eyeing Frige with blatant curiosity. "Could you have helped?" He indicated with long pale fingers out towards the retreating flags.

"I could not. We are not allowed to be so direct." At Merlin's incredulous expression Frige giggled slightly, "Even the Gods are subjected to rules Emrys. The lives of mortals cannot be taken so manifestly, we can create a path that will lead them to their ultimate fate, true, but we cannot make them walk it. Why do you think we took such a convoluted route to see you bloom?"

"I don't know. I guess it never occurred to me that Gods might be bound by regulations, just as much as we. It's…rather reassuring actually. I had worried that the triple goddess wouldn't like where this was headed and might retaliate." Frige's tinkling laugh rang out once more.

"Emrys, for all that Morgana was her last high priestess and therefore the largest link she had to this realm, she was still mortal, and **you** are our son. There is no greater bond than that. She would not interfere even if she could not when we were the instigators.

There has not been a child of the gods since before the first dragons walked the earth. You are so very special and protected by **all** of us." That was a startling revelation if ever there was one. Merlin still wasn't entirely sure how to deal with the fact he was a demi-god though it seemed to be getting easier every time he thought of it.

"So If Gods cannot interfere, how come I can?" It was something that had been nagging at him.

"You are not a full God, you carry our spirit but it is bound to mortal flesh. You have a foothold in both worlds. You are immortal but you can be hurt. You are our bridge, our anchor, you tie the realms together. What that means is that the rules in both will bend for you more than most. A high priest or priestess can interact with us in a limited fashion due to their strong magic though the Gods still usually need to send their wishes as riddles, portents if you will, we are not able to communicate with mortals without the prophecies, visions or dreams, they have to be vague or the compulsions would be too strong for them. People have a great desire to please the gods it is in their nature, we did after all create them, but it can be very destructive. Creatures of magic are protected even more and can stand our presence for a measure of time but even then we have to be careful not to outstay our welcome. It is the reason we started to withdraw in the first place." That hadn't answered his question at all, in fact Merlin now felt even more confused

"Then how can I be here, talking to people? Arthur never listened to me most of the time, most others dismissed me completely."

"Your humanity allows you to interact in a way that is denied us, though people will still be drawn to you and will wish to please you, though the compulsion is less noticeable. You make friends very easily Merlin it is all part of the charisma you exude. Everyone strives to better themselves in your company, it is possible that is the reason Arthur could be so irritable around you at times. I would hazard a guess that his natural urge to make you proud, would be battled by his external education and experiences in such a way that he would be very confused and take it out on the nearest body. That body usually being you." Frige sounded altogether too amused by that.

"We can speak to you, visit you and give you instruction like this because you are one of us, you will **always** be one of us. No one else will be able to see us or feel us, just as they will never behold the power under this castle. We are yours and you are ours. You know in your heart this is true." Merlin couldn't speak it was too much. An overload of sensation, he was drowning in it. Then just as before Frige took his hand stroking the back gently and a cool peace stole through him. The steady pulse of the earth turning slowly on it's axis beneath his feet, and his thoughts calmed.

"Know that we will also always be here. When you need us we shall know it and we will come." His eyes brightened with tears not yet falling and he felt such gratitude to know he would never be left completely alone.

When Mordred had first called him Emrys Merlin had foolishly thought to translate it. It had seemed so important to the boy and such a specific name had to mean something. Once he had of course he had tried so very hard not to think about what it could mean and wished his impulsiveness had never led to him discovering it. He had never shared his fears with anyone. Had tried to bury it not wanting to think of the implications. That he would live on, as all those around him died. Finding brief happiness with people, only for it all to be snatched away again in the inevitable march of the ages, until the end of time itself.

It had seemed such a cruel fate. Now however he still felt unhappy at the prospect of losing loved ones to the slow grind of centuries but he had found also a glimmer of hope. That he would also find contentment of sorts in the work given him by the gods and count the lives he would influence through the countless ages as what they really were.

A gift.

To be treasured whilst ever they lasted.

…..

The Saxons had been raiding all along the coast. Pillaging and then burning the villages to the ground. Slaughtering the innocents all the way through Caerleon, pushing further and further inland. King Silas, son of the late Queen Annis called on the treaty between his lands and Camelot for help repelling them and though Arthur was now nearing his 65th year and his commanders were some of the best in the kingdoms of Albion. He always oversaw the battles himself even if his days of swinging a sword were few and far between.

Merlin as always accompanied him, aging spell masking the fact he had not aged past the 24 year old body he had when his demigod power was awakened. It didn't make the magic he wielded with such skill any less potent, and the warlock always went everywhere with his king as did the Dragonlord corps and the battalion of knight mages lead by Sir Mordred and Sir Bedivere. These veteran Knights were both experienced in magical warfare, and the Saxons had proven they held sorcerers within their ranks that wielded a magic that was both unusual and very dark, poisonous almost.

The battlefield chosen was bleak and inhospitable but was perfect to trap the enemy soldiers in. The only problem came when the Dragon's were deployed. The steep sided and rocky cliffs acted as wind tunnels pulling the flames of their harsh breaths far further than anticipated, spreading the smoke and making visibility poor. It required careful manoeuvring, and for the most part it was extremely successful in decimating the ranks of invading soldiers.

The tragedy came in the first rays of the new day after a hard night of fighting by the light of dragon fire, when the wind had picked up and making the dissipation of smoke even more unpredictable. The dragons had roared down the main pass, spreading panic and mayhem. Laying down a sheet of flame that lingered long after the two adolescent dragons had wheeled away toward another lesser ravine. Bedivere, Mordred and a small band of exhausted knights were holed up in a side passage waiting for their chance at those soldiers who made it through the smoke screen and flames. They heard yells and sword clashes and over a dozen men came charging toward them from all directions.

In the chaos no-one noticed that some of those men had appeared from the pass their allies held their war tents. Those same tents that had been torched by the over zealous dragons and the damnable winds. It was only as the last of the smoke cleared and the faces of those they were fighting became visible once more that Mordred realised just who it was he had fatally pierced with his sword.

It was entirely accidental and he was forgiven with a dying breath, but Mordred would always blame himself from that day forward. Realising that Merlin had been so very right all those years ago, when he had told him that fate had a way of plying out regardless. For it was at Camlann, when the dread fire of Zoelphis, who had been the last high priestess reigned down from the sky in defence of Albion that Mordred did indeed have a hand in the death of Arthur Pendragon, once and future king.

Merlin Emrys took his body and laid his friend to rest in the lake of Avalon as he had done with loved ones before, as he would again, knowing that as Albion's guardian he would be able to call on his courage whenever Albion needed him. He had formed the circle of custodians, Gaius, Gwen, Arthur, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon, Perceval, Gwaine and Mordred. And when they were needed, Merlin would wake them, bring them forth, so they could protect their legacy once again.

He didn't say goodbye. For there were no goodbyes needed. He would see his friends again and walk together with them side by side.

…..

**_Let loose the hounds of war._**

**_Let the dread fire of the last priestess_**

**_reign down from angry skies._**

**_For brother will slaughter brother._**

**_For friend will murder friend._**

**_As the great horn sounds, a cold dawn at Camlann._**

**_The prophets do not lie._**

**_There Arthur will meet his end,_**

**_Upon that mighty plain._**


End file.
